


The Hype

by lemonjosh



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gay, M/M, Top Josh, Transgender, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonjosh/pseuds/lemonjosh
Summary: Tyler is trans. Joshua is too. In that, they find each other.





	1. One

I almost don't realize I'm being dragged back by the hood of my sweatshirt until I lose my footing beneath me and fall backwards, my skinny frame heading straight to the ground because there is nothing to weigh me down but my clothes. A strangled sound leaves my throat the moment my body hits the ground, and I swear I can hear something crack, whether it is my head or my back or whatever. I am immediately winded. 

James stands above me, an ugly smirk on his dumbass gremlin face, his dirty blond hair filled with that gel the fucker always wears. I want to punch him, but he steps a foot onto my chest and it pushes against my binder very uncomfortably. 

"Can you get the fuck off?" I practically wheeze. I haven't caught my breath yet. 

"Can you stop being queer?" he says, and oh my god, I want to rip the nuts right off of his body. No matter how small they are. It might be easier if they're smaller. 

I grab his ankle and shove his foot off of me, a dirt print on my sweatshirt where it just was. I'm seriously supposed to work in this, but it's covered in dirt and I'm mad. I'll have to live with just my t-shirt until I can wash my sweatshirt. James is surprisingly decent enough to at least let me stand up, and I dust myself off, scowling at the dirt that falls off of me. It's hard to reach the stuff on my back, but at least it isn't all that much. Maybe I can still salvage this. 

James picks up his pace once I start walking, shoving my hands into my pockets, fiddling with my phone case. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?" I breathe, relishing in the way my breath clouds in front of me. It's fall, the leaves crunch under my feet, and James would look so much better from a 500 foot distance. 

"We're walking the same way," James tells me, and he shoves his hands into his pockets too. I don't understand why the hell he's walking with me, I hate his guts. He's a queer-phobic asshole and he still walks next to me. Ironic. 

I say nothing but pull my headphones out of my back pocket, the same pocket as my wallet with my brand new drivers license showcasing my newly legal name. I shut myself off from James and shuffle my music, something by Depeche Mode playing. I can tell James wants to run his big cis mouth but I'm not in the mood and I don't think I ever will be, so I inch closer and closer to the edge of the sidewalk in hopes of getting hit by a car. That way, my body will go flying at James and will knock him over. Ha. 

It comes time for James and I to part ways, and I've never been more grateful. I will never truly understand him and how he can go from knocking me over and insulting my queerness to walking in-step with me down the sidewalk. He turns his respective way with a cocky smirk, and I turn mine, glad he's out of my sight. I cross the street with my headphones in, and I keep them in until I'm walking up the steps of the public library. 

It is a lot warmer in here than outside, and there are heaters everywhere, so I feel cozy in my sweatshirt. I might just keep it on to be honest, I don't like it when people see me without my sweatshirt on. Things look less obvious that way. Sweatshirts have become my best friend, they hide the true shape of my hips. 

I find myself at the DVDs even though I know I should really read a book. I just want to watch Parks and Rec for the seventh time, is there anything wrong with that? No? Didn't think so. 

I scowl when they don't have it. Literally all seven seasons are gone. 

I scan through the other television seasons, settling on Community even though I've seen it once before. I grab only the first and second season, because they're the best out of the entirety of them. I scratch at the scruff on my jawline, tucking the DVDs under my arm so I can reach for my wallet without pocketing my phone, and I pull out my drivers license. It feels really good to pull it out and use it, to flaunt my new identity and name. No one will know the past me, no one will know Taylor because she doesn't exist anymore. 

I walk up to the checkout desk with my two DVDs and the woman at the front scans them, asking me for a form of identification. I happily hand her my license. I'm clean-shaven in the photo, as opposed to the scruff I've been to lazy to shave off as of right now. She gives me a soft smile and I'm on my merry way, tucking the DVDs under my arm once again so I can shove my headphones in my ears and then my hands in my pockets. Work isn't far from the library. 

I pass a homeless man on the walk, he has a cup sat in front of him and an old, fat dog by his side. When I was younger, my mother always told me to just keep walking, to not give them any money or food because they could be faking it. I always felt terrible, but I was a kid, so what could I really do? I didn't want to disobey my mother no matter how bad I felt. 

I give him a five dollar bill and he thanks me with a wide smile, one of his teeth is missing and there is a scar on his lip above where said tooth should be. Perhaps he was in a fight and his tooth was knocked out. Who knows? 

I keep walking after he lets me pet his dog, who licks my hand happily. Another block and I am at work, weaving through tables to find my way to the staff room. I strip myself of my sweatshirt for the sake of my appearance, it's more formal if I'm just wearing my shirt and not my dirty sweatshirt anyways, and tie my apron around my waist. It doesn't look terrible. I don't look feminine, my hips are fine, I tell myself, no one can tell, I have scruff. I look like a man. I am a man. 

Hannah is at the bar, wiping it down. Her blonde hair is tucked behind her ears, her septum ring is different from yesterday's black. It's silver today. "Hey, Ty," she says, smiling warmly. She has a voice like honey. Hannah, honey, blonde, beautiful. 

I smile at her, there are already people ready to be served and I grab a pen and my little booklet from my apron. I have a little rainbow pin on the front pocket, along with a small blue, white, and pink flag, though not a lot of people know what that one means. My boss is really cool about it, she lets me keep them on and she's very supportive. 

I come to a table with three girls, they already have their menus because they are always sat at the tables. "Can I get you ladies something to drink?" Two say Pepsi, one says water with ice, and after taking the orders from two other tables I serve their drinks and write down what they will be eating. I am on my feet constantly, I don't get a break until an hour or so later, merely to use the bathroom and have a quick snack. 

Hannah is pouring beer from the tap to an older woman, it isn't even five yet, but I keep my mouth shut. I don't like alcohol, but I respect others that do. It gets busier as the hours drag on, my shift doesn't end until closing time because I have nothing better to do, literally. Around seven, after I've sat down and had some water behind the bar, Hannah nudges me with her elbow as she's cleaning a glass. Her shift ends in half an hour, lucky her. 

"Huh?" I say, readjusting my shirt from under my apron. It rose up a little bit to reveal a small amount of stomach from how much I was moving around.

"That guy is staring at you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over people conversing at their tables and the low music. I look over in the direction she cocks her head in, as if she can't make it any more obvious that we're looking at him too. I immediately catch his eyes and he smiles, and I'm assuming the woman sitting across from him is his mother because she is short and much older looking than he is. 

His smile is contagious, fluttering towards my lips, and I find myself wanting to go over there. "Go serve them," Hannah hisses. "They don't have their drinks yet."

She grabs me by the apron and drags me away from the edge of the bar, and even though it's still technically my break, I do walk over there, pulling out what I need to take their order. "Good evening," I breathe, and though I say it to both of them, I'm looking directly at the man, studying the sharp bridge of his nose. "Would you guys like something to drink?"

"I'll have a Hefeweizen," the man says, shutting his menu, and his mother - at least I think she's his mother - says, "I'll have a prosecco." Classy. 

I scribble it down very quickly. "Are you ready to order your food or would you like more time?" The man's eyes flicker over to my pins, and I swear I can see him smirk. My heart jumps into my throat, though I can't tell if it's because he's cute or because he might possibly be a bigoted asshole that will chew me out for not being cis. I really hope it's the first one.

"Yeah," the man says, and his voice is smooth, sort of like lotion, and I want to rub it all over my body. 

He orders spaghetti, his mother orders a burger, and I bring them back their drinks in record time. "He's pretty attractive, you know," Hannah says once I've returned. 

"You think I don't know that?" I hiss, and oh my god, he's looking at me again. I like the way his eyes feel on me. "Should I introduce myself?" We don't have name tags, we probably should have them so I don't choke on my own words trying to introduce myself. But I'd like to choke on other things. Hannah shrugs, telling me to wait until their food is ready so I don't seem like I'm bothering them too much. I pull out a stool from behind the bar and sit down, waiting for their table's food to be called to be served. I really should be using my break to eat dinner, but I seldom use it for that purpose. Mainly to drink water and talk to Hannah more than I already do while I'm working. 

I steal a glance at the man, relishing in the way his hair curls wildly and how nice it would be to run my hands through it. He takes a sip from his beer, and the foam leaves a little mustache above his lip. It's like he knows I'm staring, because - I shit you not - he looks directly at me, right into my eyes with his piercing hazel, and licks his lips. Ohhhh my god. How can he just do that if his mother is sitting right across from him?

I swear it gets eight times hotter in the restaurant, and I find myself sweating.

My pocket buzzer goes off before I know it, meaning I'll have to serve them their food. "Spaghetti for you," I say, setting his bowl down before him. The bowl is hot and he helps me, our fingers brushing and shit, I really wish I was at home right now. I set his mother's burger down in front of her and she smiles at me, giving a quiet thank you. 

"Enjoy," I say confidently. 

"Oh, I will," the man says, and I turn away with a blush after he winks at me, and I hear his mother whisper sternly, "Joshua!" So, his name is Joshua. 

They take awhile to eat, but of course, I busy myself with other tables and orders and closing time approaches. They pay, I'm left a rather large tip, which I shove into my pockets once they have left. I'm sort of surprised there is no number left behind on the receipt. After all that flirting and obvious eye-fucking, I was sure I would at least get his number. But oh well. 

I clock out with a goodbye to Hannah, parting ways with her at the parking lot. There's a couple of other cars, one parked where I usually am, but it isn't a coworker's car. I would recognize it if it was. This Joshua man, Mr. Flirtatious, is standing outside of the car, leaning against it, a tightly wrapped blunt between his fingers. Maybe he was high when he and his mother were eating, that isn't exactly sober behavior. 

I shove my hands into my pockets and throw my hood over my head. It's dark and I just want to get home and sleep, and Joshua looks up from his phone when I pass his car, and he says, "Hey, wait!"

Is it the best idea to stop? Maybe he was being like he was in the restaurant so he can pull me into an alley by tricking me into thinking we're going to have sex and then murder me. He's got drugs on him, he's inhaling drugs, for Christ's sake. It's not like I haven't smoked weed before, but only at home, never in public. My feet stop in protest against my thoughts, and I turn around to face him. He's smiling gorgeously. 

"I never caught your name," he says, blunt forgotten. 

I pull my hood back to reveal the rest of my head. "I never threw it."

Joshua laughs. "I'm Joshua, you can call me Josh," he says as if I didn't hear his mother scold him. "Or something else, if you'd like."

"What's that something else?" I'm feeling oddly cocky right now, and Joshua smirks, he's so fucking hot, dropping his blunt to the ground and grinding it with his boot. So much weed wasted, oh my god. He shrugs, like it's up to me to come up with a nickname for him even though we've just met. He doesn't say anything else, so I speak up and mention my name. "Tyler."

"Suits you," he smiles. 

I shove my hands further into my pockets, my breath billowing in clouds before my face. "I should really be getting home, Joshua," I say, not really sure why I've added his name to the end of my sentence. "It was nice talking to you."

"We hardly talked," he points out. He looks around the parking lot. "It looks like you're not heading towards a car, would you like a ride home?" 

A ride home from a stranger who might be trying to get into my pants? "My apartment really isn't that far," I tell him. "It isn't a long enough walk to need a drive." This is a lie, since I normally drive to work anyway. It just seems unsafe to let him drive me home if we don't really know each other that well. I'm sure I can walk home in the dark, freezing cold, even though I'll probably be miserable. 

"Are you sure? I can drive you home, it's no big deal," Joshua states. "Unless you have a problem with the smell of weed, my car sort of reeks of it."

"You're not going to drag me down some alley and suck my blood, are you?" I ask cautiously, trying to make it seem like a joke but also actually trying to be cautious. 

"God, no," Joshua laughs. "I promise I won't suck your blood. That's pretty gross. So is murder and all that jazz." Murder isn't exactly jazzy, but okay. I shrug as if to say what the hell and climb in the passenger seat. He's hot, what's the worst that could happen?

He drops me off at home with no problem whatsoever. I'm thoroughly surprised, I'd expect him to talk, but he's pretty much silent besides asking me where I live and how he taps along the steering while like drums. Maybe he's a drummer. As soon as he stops the car, it's like he's grown a little nervous, because he turns to me with a shy smile and says, "Could I have your number?"

Again, my cocky side comes into play. "You were basically undressing me with your eyes, of course you can have my number." I grab the pen off of his dashboard and scribble it onto the palm of his hand. It's like he visibly lights up. Please don't be transphobic. Please be trans-friendly. He's too hot for me to let him go already. 

I open the car door with a smile gracing my lips. "I'll see you around, Joshua."

"Bye, Tyler-" he starts, but I really don't hear the rest because the car door is slamming shut, causing me to wince awkwardly. Oops. He waves politely through his window and pulls out of the parking spot, and I'm climbing the stairs to my apartment. The second I am inside, I pull both my shirt and my binder off, taking in a deep breath. 

It feels good and I can breathe so much better.


	2. Two

There is a distinct difference between bodily dysphoria and bodily dysmorphia. A lot of people fail to realize that, and they often get the two mixed up, but they are different.

A lot of cis people in this world are truly the ones to be the ones doing the mixing-up, I've noticed. It comes from familiarity of the word, since they do sound rather similar hence their meanings. I myself know what the differences are, of course, because first-hand experience has caused me to know.

A lot of people are uncomfortable with their bodies. I was extremely uncomfortable with my body for the longest time, and while I still am, I'm just not as much as I used to be because testosterone has literally been a god-send. But what I experienced, and still experience, is bodily dysphoria. Dysphoria is the concept of not feeling comfortable in your body whatsoever appearance-wise, but in regards to gender. It's something most, if not all transgender people have to go through. It pertains heavily to sexual organs.

Dysmorphia is more general, mainly focused on appearance. Of course, this relates to dysphoria, but not in regards to gender. This deals a lot with eating disorders, where people are uncomfortable with their weight or even what their face looks like. It's more of a spectrum, because it is different for everyone. No person is the same.

The worst dysphoria for me is with my chest.

I have always been naturally skinny, with a thin bone structure, though lanky. This allowed for me to have smaller breasts, but despite everything, they were and are still there. I could probably live my life without a binder and be just fine because my breasts are so small as they are, but my stomach still churns at the thought of anyone seeing the slightest outline of them. They used to be a little bit bigger, but testosterone is known to make breasts shrink, so they've gone down at least a size. Now I'm an A-cup. Not that anyone ever sees, anyway.

It is always a struggle to get off with another person in this city. Many people are terrified of something different and completely out of their comfort zone. Sleeping with a trans man is not very common among gay men, the cis ones, because there is a lot of underlying transphobia in the gay community. It's stupid, but there's nothing I can do about it.

It's been a bit of a dry spell. Nothing I can't handle, however, because it isn't like I'm completely dependent on another person to get off anyway. Besides, those who I have slept with weren't really good at it, even though they were caring and understood that it was going to be hard. They just didn't know where to put what because they weren't entirely used to seeing a man without a dick.

I stand in front of my mirror, stark naked, but my hands are covering up my breasts. Everything else is open and exposed for no one but I to see. My binder needs to be washed so I'll have to settle with tape today. It is actually healthier because it does not constrict breathing, but binders are much quicker to slip on when I'm in a rush.

I turn to the side, examining the curve of my butt and how it molds into my thighs. I turn back to face myself fully and play with the hair around my bellybutton. Testosterone tends to make men hairy, but I keep mine trimmed because I'm not into being super hairy. I grab my tape off of my dresser and let my hand fall from my breasts. The cold air hits them immediately and I don't know why, but I shiver, even though the rest of my body has been exposed to it since my shower. 

I pull my breasts back and tape them in place. Then I throw some actual clothes on and pad into the kitchen, not really sure what to eat. I don't have to work today, and I literally don't have any hobbies whatsoever, so I lay on the couch, food forgotten, and turn on the television. I don't like paying for cable so I am left with Netflix, which means I'm yet again turning on Brooklyn 99. I don't really pay attention all that much because I've seen it all before, and I think about how I got Community at the library yesterday and could probably watch that, but I am too lazy to get back up to my room.

I stare at the ceiling. I am incredibly bored. On days without work I don't have anything to do, so I usually spend it sleeping or watching television. Usually the sleeping is on the couch, too, because I try to actually watch and then end up dozing off. Honestly, I didn't have to put this tape on because I'm not going out, and I reach under my shirt to pull it off very carefully so I don't rip my skin, but my phone buzzes with a call.

I groan very loudly and reach for my phone off of the coffee table, but the number is unknown. Huh, maybe it's Joshua. Though I highly doubt it, because he was probably just asking for my number to be nice. He probably saw my trans flag pin and felt bad, in all honesty.

It is Joshua, and I know this because when I pick up, he says, "Uh, hi, this is Joshua." Pretty obvious.

I'm half tempted to say this is the wrong number as a joke, but that might result in Joshua hanging up and never talking to me again, and I don't want that because he is sculpted more beautifully than a Greek statue and I sort of want him on top of me. Well, more than sort of, but he doesn't need to know that. "Hi, Joshua," I say, and with my free hand, I slowly pull the tape off of my breasts. I wasted a little bit of it, but oh well. I can always order more, it's not expensive and I have a job that pays well enough.

"How are you?" Joshua asks, and he sounds different from yesterday. Then again, he probably wasn't sober yesterday.

"Bored." I don't know what else to say, but it's like Joshua laughs on the other end or something. I can't really tell, but I pull my hand out from under my shirt and wad up the tape, tossing it onto the coffee table. It sounds like more of a breathy out-of-the-nose laugh. "Me too," he says. "I left my weed in my car and I'm too lazy to go and get it."

This time, I laugh, and it's loud because this guy I hardly know is talking to me about weed.

I am not really sure of what to say, so I run my hands under my shirt, over the skin that now has grooves in it from the tape that I hardly even wore. "What are you doing?" I can't tell if Joshua's voice is gravely because he just woke up or what, but it's nice and I could listen to it for awhile.

"Watching television."

"Hmm, what show?" 

"Brooklyn Nine-Nine." I turn over and face the television a little more than I was before. Andy Samberg is saying something witty, but I pick at my nails rather than listen. 

"I love that show!" Joshua exclaims. "I haven't watched it in awhile, I should really get back into it." There's a sigh on his end, and he sounds tired. I want to go back to bed and I'm sort of mad that I wasted my tape when I didn't have anywhere to go, but I wasn't aware of that until after I realized I don't work today. When I don't say anything, Joshua continues speaking. "The spaghetti you served me last night was really good." 

When he says I served him, it sort of sounds like he's a king or something and I am a servant, but I don't mention that. I keep that to myself. "You should thank the chef, not me." I want to comment on how he was basically undressing me with his eyes, but I think I mentioned that to him last night when he asked me for my number. 

"Can I thank you for letting me drive you home?" 

I raise an eyebrow even though he cannot see it. "Shouldn't I be the one thanking you for saving my ass from walking in the freezing cold?" 

Joshua laughs again, and I decide it is a nice sound. I wonder if he laughs during sex. I think it's really attractive when people laugh during sex, because then you know they're having fun and everything is alright. "Hey, I'm just glad I had the chance to ask for your number," Joshua tells me. "I couldn't have done it in front of my mother."

"But you were doing all that other stuff in front of your mother?" I chortle, curling up with laughter. "When you licked your lip? What did she think of that?"

"Oh, she didn't see that," Joshua breathes. "There are lots of other things I wanted to do but she and other people would have definitely seen."

Whoa. 

Uh. 

Okay. 

I really am glad I don't have to go into work today, because there are things I now want to do that would be inappropriate for work. These things have to be contained and kept in my apartment so no one else will see. 

"You're very open about these sorts of things, aren't you?" My voice is low because I'm trying not to sound too pushy. It sounds like he is opening a drawer, but I can't tell, and then there's more shuffling. 

"When I see something I like I do what I can to win it over." God. I literally just met this guy and he's already making me want to get down on my knees. Would it be wrong to invite him over or ask to go over to his house? He's hot and flirtatious and into me. God, what more could I ask for? It's been so long, this is the perfect opportunity. 

Sunlight filters in through the open slots in the blinds, casting a glare on the television and marks along my body. I sigh through my nose, snuggling into a fetal position, still on my couch. "You're very interesting, Joshua," I say. I squeeze my legs together and there is a small pressure that makes me realize I really need to get to it soon. I have to hang up the phone. 

"I want to see you," Joshua says. "Soon." Looks like he beat me to it. 

I play dumb. "What do you mean?" I know damn well what he means, I just want to hear him say it. I want to hear him say my name and hear him groan it under his breath. The word 'sex' isn't spoken but it is definitely implied.

"Mm, today," he breathes out, he's always breathing out his words, it seems. Or at least maybe that is just on this phone call. The thought of what he could be doing right now causes the pressure to build up between my legs, and I whine uncomfortably, but it's quiet. Joshua definitely hears this. 

"Do you want this too?"

I reach for the remote and turn off the television, and slowly sit up. I'm moving to my bedroom, and I close the door, resting my head against it. "I do." 

God, but I can only imagine what Joshua is going to think if we actually meet up for sex and he sees that I am not a cis man. Will he be disgusted and ask to leave? Or ask me to leave if we are at his house? I couldn't tell last night what he was thinking when he saw my pins, if he thought anything of it at all. 

"Can I come over?" Joshua asks, his voice still breathy. I want him to breathe all over my skin. 

The apartment is a mess, but I'm desperate because it's been a very long time since I've had a physical human connection, so I tell him yes, and I'm reluctant on hanging up because his voice could get me off alone. But I text him my address anyway, and I know I could rub one out right now but I decide it's probably better if I wait for Joshua to arrive. I just hope he brought a condom or two because I have none. 

I run a quick load of dishes and then tidy up the living room, throwing my wad of binding tape in the trash. I make my bed, but I'm hoping it gets messy again. I also pick up the clothes I left lying on the floor and throw them into the dirty laundry basket. I really don't think about the fact that an almost stranger is on his way to my house to have sex with me because I've had sex with strangers before. Some I didn't even know the names of until after we were finished. This stranger is a lot hotter than those other strangers, and I actually know his name too.

The doorbell rings and my stomach immediately lurches. 

Here we go.


	3. Three

I don't answer the doorbell right away. I panic because I took off my tape when I should have left it on because Joshua is here and I don't want him seeing my chest. It's not that I'm not proud of my identity, it's just that if Joshua is cis and didn't know what my trans pin meant when he saw it on my apron, he might freak out and call me names. He might attack me. That's always a possibility and it's terrible that I have to be on the lookout for. I don't deserve to be afraid for my life because some cis men are terrible people.

Even though my binder is dirty, I quickly squeeze it on and then the doorbell rings a second time. I mutter a curse under my breath and throw a sweatshirt on over my shirt and then practically bolt for the door. Just to be sure, I look through the peephole. It is Joshua, and his hair is wild, possibly more than it was yesterday.

The thought of running my hands through it, pulling at it, makes my stomach churn, but comfortably.

I take a deep breath and unlock the door, opening it to face Joshua. He smiles the moment he sees my face. God, he's so incredibly attractive.

"Hey," he says, and he has a bag slung over his shoulder and I have no idea why. It's a small backpack.

I smile nervously, opening the door to let him in. "How are you?"

"Really glad to see you." He sets his bag onto my couch with another smile, and I admire his perfect teeth. He hasn't shaved, and scruff is growing along his jaw. I should have shaved, and I am suddenly self conscious about it. My stomach churns again, but nervously this time. He's wearing a tight t-shirt and sweatpants, meaning he probably threw them on in a hurry to get here. Or maybe he slept in them.

My hand is still on the doorknob, air from the hallway filtering into my apartment. It is much colder in my apartment than in the hallway, and I realize this once I feel the warm air of the hallway. "Are you going to close the door?" Joshua asks. His voice is soft, and I wonder how soft is hair is or if he washed it. It looks pretty clean to me.

A blush paints my cheeks and I look at my feet as I close the door. I don't know why I feel like this, I'm normally more confident but Joshua's energy takes up the entire room. I feel like I'm suffocating as he looks at me.

"Would you like something to drink?" Joshua immediately shakes his head no. I still move into the kitchen, passing him on my way, and I swear I can feel his hand graze my hip. I swallow nervously and chug a glass off tap water and I see he has followed me into the kitchen, standing in the doorway and leaning against it. He has taken his shoes off and I barely noticed. He's wearing socks. I personally think feet are gross and rather ugly, so I'm thankful. I don't want people walking around my apartment without socks.

"You're very handsome," Joshua says, scratching at his elbow. "I'm glad we met."

I blush yet again, and smile at my hands, refusing to look at him. "Thank you," I mutter, and he's closer, standing in front of me now, and I can smell his deodorant. Irish Spring. It's fresh, and if he were to be on top of me, one of his arms stretched to hold onto the headboard, I would be able to smell it even better than now.

He kisses me, and my eyes are wide because I don't expect it. Kissing has always felt weird to me, not in a bad way, just different. It's wet, his chin scruff scratches against my chin scruff, and his hand moves to my hip. "Mm, you're so good," he whispers when he pulls away, taking a moment to breathe with his nose pushed up against mine, into my mouth. He tastes like mint and bubblegum and fall all at once.

I snake my hands up into his hair and close the gap again, and his hair definitely feels clean as if it was just washed recently. It's also soft like I imagined. I tug on it softly and Joshua nearly groans into my mouth. The sound builds up the pressure in my pants I had forgotten about when Joshua and I hung up the call.

I'm being pushed up against the sink and the counter is digging into my back through my sweatshirt. I wonder if he presses his crotch against mine I'll feel him through his pants. God, he better have brought a condom.

"Can you - show me - the bedroom?" He says, and each pause is a kiss along my neck, which I know will probably be covered in marks by the time Joshua leaves.

I don't want to pull away, but I'd rather not get fucked on the counter where I do the dishes, so I nod, linking our fingers together and pulling him towards my bedroom. It isn't much, but at least I cleaned it. My bed is big too. "Blue is a nice color," Joshua says from behind me. He points out the oddest things, like the color of my bed. No normal person would say that, especially not when we're about to fuck. 

I hum in response, turning to face him, and he's quick to push me down, but carefully, so that I am laying down and he is on top of me. He looks gorgeous from this angle, and I can only imagine that I look disgusting. I probably have a double chin and my face is unwashed, but oh well. Too late to wash it now. Joshua's lips curl back in a smile and flowers bloom in my stomach, soaking up the acid. He is literally so perfect. I have a god on top of me. I am about to be fucked by a god. 

"You're so beautiful, oh my god," he breathes, his breath fanning on my cheeks. My head rests against my pillows, and Joshua is holding himself up by his elbows now so that our faces are slightly more level. I prop myself up slightly. 

His lips are on my neck again, nipping with his tiger teeth, and this draws a quiet groan from the back of my lips, and I can tell Joshua likes this because he smiles against my skin. He's so tentative and caring, and I don't get it, because isn't this supposed to be a quick fuck? Maybe he's like this with all of his other hookups. I wonder if we'll ever hook up again. I wonder if we'll even fully go through this once he discovers I'm trans. Unless he's already realized because of my pin. God, I'm so nervous, but lost in the moment so my thoughts are quickly replaced by those of his hand trailing up my thigh. It doesn't go up all the way, but it's awfully close, and as he takes a full bite to my neck, harder than before, with all of his teeth, but not enough to draw blood, his hand grips the pudgy skin of my thigh and my back arches. My hand digs into his tank top, pulling at the fabric, and a strangled noise chokes out of my throat.

So maybe he's not as tentative as I thought. I am so glad I own at least one turtleneck. 

My sweatshirt comes off soon after that, and Joshua is getting awfully close to seeing my binder, which makes my throat thicken anxiously. I hope he's okay with this. Please be okay with this. My binder is sort of like a tank top but slightly cropped, so maybe he'll assume it's just a tank top and not a binder? Unlikely, but still. He moves to lift my shirt off, but I grab his hand to stop him. "Wait a second," I whisper, sitting up fully. He sits back, and his lips are swollen from both sucking on my neck and kissing me. 

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly, studying my face. I don't know, I'm just so nervous, but my body is pulsating excitedly.

"C-can I keep my shirt on?" I tug on the hem of it, chewing on my swollen lips. Joshua's saliva covers them. "It's just - I don't know, I'd feel more comfortable."

Joshua frowns. "You don't have to feel uncomfortable around me, Tyler." His voice is so soft, soft like lotion, like his hair, like his skin. "If I take my shirt off, will it make you feel better?" His shirt hugs his body so well. I could tell that he's muscular even if I was at a distance. 

I hide my face in my hands, letting a deep sigh escape. I want to be able to trust him, this is just a lot. It's always hard to reveal this part of yourself to people, even if they are strangers. I know I pass very well, everyone thinks I'm cis, but still. There's always going to be that underlying fear that someone will notice who I once was. That someone will judge me for it. 

"I don't know," I say. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" He crawls closer, resting one hand on my knee and the other on my jaw. His thumb rubs along my scruff. 

"Please don't judge me," I whisper, and after digging my palms into my eye, I look at him, breathing in sharply through my nose. He probably thinks I'm crazy for being on the verge of tears. 

"Hey, hey, I won't judge you," he says. "Everything is alright, Tyler. You're safe with me."

I nod mechanically, and he moves his hands to my shirt, looking from it to my eyes as if to ask if he can take it off, so I nod again. He pulls it off slowly, up and over my head, and then my binder is in plain sight. Even though I'm pretty skinny, from the position I'm in, my stomach makes small rolls. I expect Joshua to at least stare for a moment, but his eyes hardly skim over my binder before he's leaning back in, pulling me down and laying his body on mine, burying his face in the crook of my neck. The way he kisses my skin softly makes me feel like we've been lovers for years, though we haven't even known each other for a mere twenty-four hours yet. 

I hook my fingers under his shirt, and he isn't hesitant to sit up, straddling my waist with his knees pressed on either side of me, holding me in place, so he can pull it off in a swift motion. My eyes widen immediately at the sight. I don't notice at first, because I am so focused on his rock hard six pack, but he has thick, pink scars under his chest, and his nipples are a bit different looking than normal nipples should look. 

Oh.

Tears immediately well in my eyes, my throat closing up. "Oh my god," I whimper, and cover my mouth up with my hands. Joshua just smiles, he isn't even bothered by my reaction. I don't know why I'm being so emotional about this, but the sight of his scars immediately trigger something in me I cannot explain. "Y-you're-" I can't say anything else. I am practically at a loss of words. 

"Yeah, I am." He's still smiling. "I had surgery four months ago."

I cannot believe this. I thought he was cis this entire time, and I was so scared he was going to be transphobic. So this is why he was so understanding about my binder, then. "I had no idea," I say shakily. "You pass s-so well."

"I've been on T for six years," he explains. "My mom paid for my surgery as my twenty-fifth birthday present."

He's so lucky. I'm still saving up for my surgery. It's incredibly expensive. I probably don't even need it with the size of my breasts, as testosterone will continue to shrink them, but still. They might never even go away fully, who knows? I've only been on T for a couple of years. Joshua has much more experience than I do, and he definitely passes much better than I do, even though I pass completely. His shoulders are so broad and he's insanely muscular. He must have worked for it. 

"When did you realize you were trans?" I ask, wiping my eyes. I feel a bit calmer now, no longer about to cry, but my heart has yet to slow down. 

"I think I was thirteen," Joshua says. "I never felt comfortable as a girl. I'm definitely more comfortable now that I've had top surgery and have been on T for so long. What about you?"

I slide my hands up his torso carefully, my fingers hovering over the thick scars. They have healed, but they will take awhile to fade. Joshua must have so much confidence. I'm jealous, but also very happy for him. He looks so good, so healthy and happy and I want to be him. But for now, I'll have to settle for less. Top surgery is definitely a priority, though. Joshua shivers visibly when I ghost my fingers over his scars, but he only watches. "Sixteen."

"Is this making you uncomfortable?" Joshua asks. 

I look back up at his face. "Is what making me uncomfortable?"

Joshua swallows. "I understand if you don't want to sleep with me now that you know I'm not cis," he mutters. "Since I can't provide like cis men do."

I scoff. "Don't you dare think or say that," I scold him, brushing his curls out of his eyes. I still feel like I've known him for longer than I have, because I feel extremely comfortable. Maybe it's the fact that him and I are both trans and know what the other is going through or has gone through. Or maybe because he was literally attached to my neck just a few minutes ago. I don't know. It probably isn't the latter. "I would much rather sleep with you than a cis man. Most of them have no idea what they're doing when it comes to trans men. And besides, there are too many cis transphobes in the gay community."

Joshua laughs. "I feel the exact same way. And you're right. Trans men know what they're doing." 

It's because we can understand, I guess. We can understand what other trans men are going through because we've fought their battles. They've fought our battles. We've fought each others' battles. We have the same body parts. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off of my chest and shoulders. I no longer feel burdened by the fact that my identity could cause harm to my being because Joshua understands.

Butterflies hoard my stomach when Joshua grazes my jaw with his lips. I expected this to be a quick hook-up, and that Joshua would leave straight after, but it has turned into something completely different.

I know after this, I will definitely see Joshua again.


	4. Four

Sensitive.

Our chests are heaving, mine slightly faster than his, and the mattress jumps slightly when Joshua laws down beside me.

He lifts his hips up to slide off his strap-on, one specifically made for trans men. He tosses it to the foot of the bed, it's still wet but neither of us care. I stretch my legs out, my arms too, and Joshua turns to face me.

I smile tiredly. He does the same, and it's warm, and I'm still coming down from my high, my body buzzing with excitement. I splay my hands over his chest, fingers ghosting over his scars, and his mouth is open, heavy breaths still coming out, and he lays his head against the pillow.

He doesn't comment on how good it was, neither do I, because we don't need to. We know it was amazing, the best sex either of us have had - or at least, that was the best sex I've ever had. But from the way Joshua was loud when my tongue was down there, licking every inch of his body and then some, I know he liked it too.

"What are you - what are you doing tomorrow night?" Joshua asks, and the clock only says one p.m. which means Joshua has been over for several hours.

I sigh, my breath having slowed down slightly. "Working, unfortunately." I always have work, I have nothing better to do, so I just work, work, work. I wonder where Joshua works and if I'll ever visit him there. Or if he'll ever visit me at work. Or if we'll ever see each other again. Joshua groans with a smile, and pulls me closer by my hips, our bodies flush against each other. It's hot, not just sexy, but literally hot. It's like Joshua is a human space heater and I'm so cold, clinging to him like my life depends on it.

"I'll just have to come order dinner again, then," he says, and he nips my jawline with his tiger teeth, breathing out of his nose and onto my skin.

"You're too good," I tell him. "You don't have to come to my work."

"But what if I want to see you?" His hand trails up my back, over every bump of my spine and my over my shoulder blades. I hum when he cups my chest, my barely-there breasts, his skin so, so soft and god I am glad he's here. Normally, when I have a hookup, I usually kick them out right after, but for some reason, I really don't want Joshua to leave. He should stay the night, I wouldn't complain and I don't know if he would either. 

"Are you out?" My voice is quiet, my breathing finally normal. 

"I am," he says without a second thought. "It's not like I go around telling anyone, but if they find out, then they find out." He pauses for a moment, and I brush a dark curl off of his forehead. "You have no idea how excited I was when I saw your little pin."

I shrink a little. I'm glad for him, he passes so well and I sincerely thought he was cis. I'm open about it too, obviously, with my pin, but my features are much more feminine than his. I haven't been on testosterone for as long as he has, and I haven't had surgery for my chest yet. I'm also like a twig, very skinny, opposed to Joshua's buffness or whatever the word is. He's ripped, and I'm not. I'm just small. Lanky, skinny, whatever, though I'm not exactly the shortest. I'm not the tallest either. It's pretty average for a male. But I was a tall girl, I know that much. Now I'm just an average male. 

"What do you mean?" I ask. 

"I took one look at your pin and I swear to god I wanted you to be with me," Joshua tells me. "I knew you were working, so I sort of had to work my magic."

I practically snort with laughter. "You were eye-fucking me while I was working. That's your way of working magic? You could have just flirted. Or left me your number on the receipt." Wait, is that why he stayed behind in the parking lot? So he could talk to me? So he could give me a ride home? Does that sound creepy?

"I wanted to ask you in person, and like I said, I couldn't have done it in front of my mother. She better be glad she didn't see all of the other flirting. I would have gotten smacked." He laughs melodiously, better than any song on the radio, on the top 100 charts, and if this wasn't totally insane and creepy, I would have an mp3 on my phone of his laugh because it's just so beautiful. 

"You know, I thought you were cis at first," I mumble. "I was scared."

Joshua's happy demeanor immediately drops into a frown, and he sits up, so I sit up with him, blankets pooling at our waists, my chest exposed to the cold, open air, and it sort of makes my nipples hard. I immediately crave Joshua's warmth once again. "Why were you scared?" His touch is even more tentative now, hands on my thighs over the top of the blanket. 

I shrug my shoulders, picking at the skin around my fingernails. "I don't know, cis men just scare me, they give me a bad rep. A lot of them are transphobic."

"You're right," Joshua says. "Some cis men are cool, though. My brother is cool with it, so is my dad. And my coworker is pretty cool with it too. Most men that I meet are." I look at him through my eyelashes, and they flutter once or twice. I've always had long eyelashes. My shoulders are a little slumped, and my chest feels like a deflated balloon. 

"I'm so grateful we met," Joshua continues. "While a lot of the people here are cool with those like you and I, there really aren't a lot of us out there. I thought you were cis at first too."

I light up visibly, and I know this because Joshua smiles widely, showing off the teeth he was biting into my skin with, grazing against my hips and nipples and thighs. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he exclaims. "Until I saw your pin, I thought you were cis. Even then, I still wanted to get to know you. Obviously whether you're cis or not didn't matter. But... When I found out you're like me, I got so happy. You excite me, Tyler. More than anyone else so far." What does he mean by that? My body excites him? The fact that I, too, am trans, just like him? Or is it because I'm loud in bed? Because I know I was loud in bed, especially with Joshua working wonders like he did. He's definitely better than any toy I've ever used, or any man I've ever slept with. My poor, poor neighbors. Oh well. 

"That means so much to me, Joshua," I whisper, thumb grazing over his jaw and chin.

"You know you can call me Josh," he whispers back, and I slowly climb into his lap, every inch of my body against his, though neither of us are complaining. Every inch. Our lips are so close, and his thigh just barely presses into my most sensitive area, and I want to go for another round. I should probably make us some lunch or something, I know I have definitely worked up an appetite. 

"I think Joshua suits you better," I mutter against his lips, his head angled up and mine angled down as I lift myself off of his lap slightly, our breath and saliva mixing. God, even with my eyes closed, I know he's gorgeous, possibly the most gorgeous man I've ever met, and if we hadn't just met, I would want to marry him right here and right now. I don't think I've ever wanted to be with someone more. 

When I pull away, he says, "I know it isn't for a couple of weeks yet, but my sister is having a Halloween party, and I'd like it if you'd come."

"Gosh, at least buy me dinner first," I joke, pushing his chest softly, sitting back down so all my areas are on his thighs again. I hook my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, elbows resting on his shoulders. Joshua laughs, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. It's cute. "You're going to tell me to buy you dinner before me asking you to a Halloween party but not before us having sex?"

I sort of like how he doesn't say hook-up. It, for some odd reason, makes this feel more real, more permanent, like it's going to happen again. Hopefully I won't just be some booty call. 

"Hey, I'm a man of peculiar interests."

"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever," Joshua laughs, and he hooks his arms around my waist and falls back onto the bed, taking me with him, and I let out a surprised noise, but Joshua is still laughing, replaying my new favorite sound. 

...

The first thing Hannah says to me when I step into work, of course after I've tied my little apron with my little pins around my waist, is, "You're wearing a turtleneck." 

I turn around to face her. I'm working a later shift tonight, only for a few hours until closing time, and I hope Joshua shows up. He mentioned something about it yesterday, but I know I shouldn't get my hopes up. Of course he's texted me since then, and we've called on the phone once, but for some reason, I still kind of miss him. 

It's pretty obvious I'm wearing a turtleneck, Hannah. Gosh. 

"Yeah, and?" I say, trying to feign annoyance, I wipe a scuff mark off of my shoe. My shift doesn't start for another ten minutes, so I can just chill behind the counter until it's my turn to start waiting. On the inside, I am yearning for Hannah to ask me about what happened so I can gush all about Joshua. But on the outside, I keep a calm demeanor. Hannah definitely knows something is up, though. I can tell by the smirk on her face. Her hair also isn't blonde anymore, but yellow instead. She must have dyed it yesterday.

"Why are you wearing a turtleneck?" Hannah cocks an eyebrow, cleaning out a glass and placing it back under the counter. 

"Because... I felt like it."

"You felt like wearing a turtleneck in this hot ass restaurant?"

I glare at her, though it is only playful. "It's cold outside." I biked to work today, my car isn't finished yet, and thankfully James the bitch hoe didn't show up, so it was peaceful and I was able to listen to my music. Even if he did show up, I would just pedal faster and let him literally eat my dust. Maybe even go back and run him over just a little bit. Over his feet, yeah, that sounds smart. He deserves it. 

"Sure, whatever you say," Hannah chortles, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her septum is back to the normal silver. I've always wanted a septum. "How's Joshua?"

"How would I know how he's doing?" I scoff, crossing my arms over the counter. Of course I know how he's doing. I don't know why I'm being so hostile, I really want to tell Hannah about him, but it's sort of fun to act like I don't know what she's talking about. 

"I saw you get in the car with him, you know," Hannah mentions.

"You were watching me?" I squeak, standing up straight. 

"Duh, you were talking to literally the most gorgeous man alive, how could I not watch?" She smiles widely, and when someone comes to the bar, orders a beer, she fills it with the tap, and they slide her five dollars. It's only three, but Hannah doesn't complain. She just puts the five into the register and then pockets the extra two dollars. It's her tip, I guess. 

"We might have had sex," I say sheepishly when Hannah returns to my side, hiding my face behind my knobby fingers. 

"Obviously," Hannah snorts. "Was he any good?"

"God, Hannah, he was phenomenal," I groan into my hands, knees practically buckling at the thought of how amazing my time with Joshua was yesterday. "The best I've ever had." 

Hannah smiles widely once again. I know she has more questions, especially when she asks, "Did you use protection?" Of course not, neither Joshua nor I have a penis, and we're both clean - he told me himself, and yes, I told him. It would be rude of me to not tell him, even if I am completely clean anyway. I know Joshua is out, but I don't know if Joshua would be okay with me just going around telling people he's trans. 

I open my mouth to speak, but the clock turns to show that it is time for me to start my shift, saving my ass from answering the question. I smile at Hannah apologetically before I exit the bar, grabbing my notepad from my apron pocket. 

I know Hannah is still going to ask more questions, and I am obviously willing to answer. I just hope Joshua shows up tonight, I hope that he wasn't bluffing yesterday. 

My stomach pools with nerves.


	5. Five

Joshua does show up to my work. 

His hair is fluffier-looking, meaning he probably washed it. My hair always gets really fluffy after I wash and condition it, but as of right now I am seriously considering just buzzing it all off. It's so much easier to maintain when it isn't there. Joshua is wearing a sweater today, paired with black jeans and doc martens. 

Our outfits are very, very similar, except I'm wearing a turtleneck sweater, not a normal one like Joshua is. And my boots are more of a maroon color as opposed to Joshua's black. 

It is half an hour before the restaurant closes and most of the customers have left, though there are a few stragglers. The hickeys I gave Joshua are in plain sight and yeah, I sort of die, because before Joshua finds me Hannah and I see him, and she nudges me with her elbow and laughs at the sight of his neck. He must not care, or maybe he didn't notice. But it's pretty hard to forget something like that is on your skin. 

Joshua's eyes find mine a second later, and he immediately lights up at the sight of me. Ditto. He makes his way to the bar, and pulls out a stool to sit on. "Hey, what can I get for you?"

He doesn't take his eyes off of me when he says, "A glass of wine would be nice," and I move to get it, but Hannah offers to pour it, so I stand there, leaning over the bar so Joshua and I are more level. "You're so classy," I comment, referring to him ordering wine. The day before yesterday, he ordered a beer. But I guess he has different tastes when it comes to alcohol. I myself am not entirely fond of it, but all the more power to Joshua if he does. 

"What can I say? I'm a classy guy." Joshua shrugs his shoulders with a wide smile, playing with my fingers over the counter. He doesn't touch his wine right away, Hannah sets it down next to where our hands our, going off a little ways down the bar to start wiping the counters. I should probably help, but Joshua is here, and I am relishing in every moment I have before I have to go home from work. Hey, maybe Joshua will offer me a ride again. Maybe he'll stay the night, who knows?

"Yeah, 'cause eating me out like your life depends on it is so classy," I whisper to him so Hannah can't hear, but she looks over when Joshua snorts with laughter, closing his eyes and holding my hands over his face, his hands guiding them there. He's still laughing but he presses a delicate kiss to each of my palms, and my heart flutters oddly. I like the feeling, though. 

It's just Hannah and I running the restaurant now, except for a few people in the kitchen, because it's so late and no one is really going to come in by now besides Joshua and the few other people here. "You can go home, Tyler," Hannah tells me. "I'll take care of everything else if anyone comes in." She normally isn't like this, because I always stay until closing, but I think it might be the fact that Joshua has just pressed a kiss to my wrist and we're both covered in hickeys - maybe she can read people really well, and maybe she can tell that Joshua and I are dying to get back to one of each other's houses and go at it. 

"You don't have to do that, Hannah," I tell her, but I know Joshua really wants me to leave, probably wants me to come home with him. I want to go home with him, that'd be nice.

"Oh, come on," Hannah says. "Give yourself a break, Tyler, you're always here. Go have fun." And she unties my apron from behind me, so I can't really protest, and she nudges me with her hip as a signal to literally get the hell out. I oblige, stepping out from behind the bar, Joshua smiling ferociously, his tiger teeth chewing on his bottom lip. My stomach pangs with butterflies and flowers, growing into my bloodstream, so I mumble to him that I have to get my things. He nods, and there's still his glass of wine, which is finished by the time I get back. He probably chugged it so we could leave quicker. 

I clock out, Joshua holds onto one of my belt loops, and as soon as we're outside, I say, "I biked here."

"We can - uh..." He looks towards his car, one of the few in the parking lot. "We can put the back seats down, it'll work."

I decide to play dumb, but a small smile lingers on my face. "And why would we put it in your car?"

"Because I want to go back to my place," Joshua deadpans. "Or yours, you know. Either is fine."

I smile, walking with him over to my bike to unlock it. This is a joke, obviously, but I ask, "What if I want to go home by myself?" And Joshua's face immediately drops into a confused frown, which makes me laugh loudly, hitting his chest lightly. "It's a joke, dummy, of course I'm going home with you."

He smiles again, wrapping his arms around me in a soft bear hug, and I'm so overwhelmed by his scent and his touch, and I can only imagine that because he smells so good, as soon as we get to his house and our clothes are off, I will literally orgasm untouched because he smells just that good. He helps me put my bike in the back of the car, and his hand is on my thigh pretty much the entire time he's driving, secure but still making my throat tighten in a good way. I'm excited, I want us to keep doing this. I hope we do, I don't want to give Joshua up this quickly. 

We leave my bike in the car, he'll drive me home in the morning probably, and we stumble up the stairs and to the first floor. "I think my roommate is still awake," he tells me quietly as he fishes his keys out of his pocket. Wait, he has a roommate? He didn't tell me this. I mean, it isn't his obligation or anything, but still. I sort of feel bad for the roommate now because they're going to have to endure hearing all of the noises Joshua and I make. Poor them, whoever they are.

Joshua unlocks the door, and I hear the television playing. "Hey, Bren," Joshua says. 

"Hey, Josh," this Bren person calls back. 

"Do you want anything to drink?" Joshua asks me quietly. I shake my head no, I'm really not that thirsty, so Joshua nods, taking his shoes off. I follow his lead, taking mine off too, and my feet are only a little bit smaller than Joshua's. The television turns off and Joshua's roommate lets out a groan, which I can only assume is from stretching, and Joshua takes my coat and puts it on the coat rack by the door. Right across from the front door is a large closet, but it's closed, so I don't really know or care to know what is in there. To my right, standing facing the closet, is a larger, spacious area, and from what I can see, it is a kitchen on the right with a dining table, and a living room on the left with a large couch. 

On the left is a long hallway, and there are three doors. One of them is open, it's the bathroom because the floor is tiled from what I can see. So I'm assuming the other two are Joshua and his roommate's bedrooms. 

Joshua's roommate is leaning against the wall by the closet now, and he looks sort of tired. "Hey, I'm Brendon," he tells me, and holds his hand out. I shake it. His left arm - but on my right - is covered in tattoos, and I can tell he definitely likes music. Maybe he's in a band or something. He's not wearing a shirt, and he has no scars under his chest, so I know he's cis. And I can sort of see his dick through his sweatpants, not that I care, though. 

"Tyler," I say in response. He smiles and lets go of my hand, and Joshua has a hand on the small of my back. 

Brendon turns to him. "Well, I'm going to bed. Please put on music or something. Or just be quiet. I have practice tomorrow."

"Hey!" Joshua scoffs, kicking Brendon in the ass as he walks off. Brendon laughs, holding his ass and shutting himself in his room. This means the room at the end of the hall, not the one next to the bathroom, is Joshua's. I wonder how big it is, what color his bedspread is, and if it's clean. I don't care if it's a little messy, like a few shirts strewn across the floor, but if it's a pigsty I'll probably die. I don't want to have sex somewhere messy. That isn't my gig. 

"Sorry about him, he's sort of a dumbass," Joshua explains. He grabs my hand and pulls me into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for me to sit in. I do, and he opens a cabinet and pulls out a clear glass. "Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?" His hand is hovering over another glass, and I ask, "Do you have any pineapple juice?"

"Why would you-" He pauses, turning to me. "Oh." He's wearing the goofiest grin I've literally ever seen, and my heart flutters. Yeah, okay, maybe I want to taste good. I've heard pineapple makes things... Sweeter. 

There is a desk backed up against the wall behind the couch, and a laptop on the desk, along with a mint green lamp. It's simple, yet cute. Joshua opens the fridge, still smiling, he's gorgeous, I want him, and when he closes the fridge, he's holding a can of pineapple juice. I was only joking, but okay. "I swear I had no idea we had any," Joshua says, pouring it into a glass. He puts ice in it too. "I think it might be leftover from when Brendon's girlfriend and boyfriend came over for drinks."

"Boyfriend and girlfriend?" I ask, taking a sip from the glass of juice. It's very sweet, but I like it. Joshua sits in the seat next to me, his legs spread a little wide, and he puts his hands on my thighs, rubbing them. It's soothing. 

"Yeah, they're in a poly relationship," he explains. "He was dating Sarah first, but then they met Dallon, and things sort of went off of there after that. It's pretty cool."

"Sounds cool," I say. "Kudos to them, I just don't think I could ever do that myself."

Joshua scrubs his face. "Me neither. I want you all to myself."

Oh my god?

His scruff is still growing, maybe he's trying to grow it out into a beard. He would look really hot with a beard. I finish off my glass a minute or so later, Joshua focusing solely on me, playing with a loose string on the hem of my jeans. He twirls it around in his fingers, and asks, "Would you like to watch a movie?" Is this supposed to be Netflix and chill, or whatever the hell it's called? I don't think I could watch a movie and have sex at the same time - I wouldn't be able to focus on the movie and then I would feel bad and be confused because I missed so much. 

"Is there a television in your bedroom?" Joshua grins deviously, and stands up, taking my hand once again, pulling me out of the kitchen and through the hallway to its end. Brendon is singing in his bedroom along to music I don't recognize, and with a voice like that, he can't not be in a band. Maybe he wrote those lyrics himself. 

There is no television in Joshua's room, but obviously neither of us care. It's bigger than mine, but our beds are the same size, though his sheets and blanket and pillows are plain white. The bed frame itself is black, and he has a white table next to the bed. He doesn't have a dresser. All of his clothes are probably in the closet, then. Joshua shuts the door with his foot, and pulls his phone out of his back pocket, shuffling his music and setting it down on the bedside table. "Gotta make sure Brendon gets some sleep," he says, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. 

He sits down, I sit down next to him. The music is quiet, he makes it louder for Brendon's sake. "I'm really glad you're here, Tyler," he says, and cups my face with one of his hands. It's delicate, his touch is so soft but I wouldn't mind if he got a little rougher. 

He kisses me, I climb into his lap, blah-blah-blah, it's hot, it's sweaty, and my hand trails down to his pants. He pulls his sweater off, his chest is warm and I can see all of the hickeys I left the other day. They suit him so well, I want to leave more. I wonder if Brendon questioned him about it. I wonder if anyone else saw them. The thought of someone seeing those hickeys - which I know people did, Joshua wore a sweater without a neck, leaving them exposed - and knowing what we did, what I did to him and him to me, turns me on further. 

My sweater is off next, and because I'm so cold, I have another shirt on underneath, which Joshua immediately discards from my body. They fall to the floor, and today, I am wearing my tape so I could finally wash my dirty binder. "Do you want to keep it on?" he asks, looking down at my tape. I shake my head, and he carefully helps me pull it off. I don't have a very hairy chest, so I don't have to use oil to aid in the process of pulling the tape off. Sometimes, though, I use a healing salve. But I haven't worn it for very long today, so neither of those are necessary. 

After the tape is off, I press my chest against Joshua's. I love how warm he is, he's like a living blanket. Belts are undone, my pants are off and yeah, I may be a little excited by the state of my underwear. I lift myself up so Joshua can shimmy out of his pants, and I end up having to get off the bed and help him because his foot gets stuck. 

"Are you wearing a packer?" I ask as I crawl onto his lap. It looks like he's wearing another pair of underwear underneath his normal ones, and they peek out a little bit. Obviously I could tell that it's a packer because it looks like he has a dick.

Joshua nods, quickly looking down at his crotch before back at me. "It helps a lot with my dysphoria."

I myself don't own a packer, but I've surely thought about it. It could help me look more cis-passing, but I already am cis-passing, so I don't really feel the need all too much. But if Joshua does, then more power to him. 

I sort of feel bad for Brendon, because Joshua and I are both loud over the music, and Brendon hits the wall to tell us to be quiet when Joshua's face is buried between my legs. I laugh, Joshua lifts his head up a little, yells a "Sorry!" before we are back at it, and this time, just so Brendon can get some sleep, I muffle my noises with Joshua's hand over my mouth, sucking on two of his fingers. 

At one point, we are laughing so hard Joshua practically falls on top of me, because sex on fire starts playing and we just happen to find it funny. And at another point, my body is so overwhelmed I start crying because Joshua won't stop being fucking amazing with his tongue and fingers, and I orgasm three times.

We end up going for longer than last time, and our skin is sticky with sweat, but the pineapple juice paid off. After our breathing evens out, Joshua turns off the music and the lamp, leaving us in darkness. "Stay the night?" he mumbles, pulling the blankets over the both of us. 

"Of course."


	6. Six

By coincidence, Joshua shows up at my door dressed as the exact same thing as me: a skeleton. His face is painted, and his normally wild, curly hair is slicked back, flipping up slightly in the back.

His gauges are bright red, and he's wearing his wild smile.

"Would you just look at that," I laugh, because even our outfits are the same. The skeleton onesie from target that you can buy for twenty dollars.

"This is hilarious," Joshua says. "Are you sure that you weren't reading my mind and trying to figure out what I was going to be dressed as?"

"I swear," I laugh again, throwing my hands up in defense. My phone and keys and wallet are already shoved deep into the pockets of my onesie. Before I transitioned, and before I had even realized my true self, I would use a purse to carry my things around, even as a teenager.

While it is more convenient in most cases, I still keep everything in my pockets. Men's pockets are a lot deeper than women's.

Walking down to Joshua's car is mainly silent, and the entire time, his pinkie finger is hooked with my index, sort of like he's pulling me along. It feels rather safe, a sense of security even though it's minimal.

"How old is your sister?" I ask as Joshua is pulling into the driveway of her house after a drive filled with The Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack. 

"Twenty-three." Joshua turns off the car. There are several others in the driveway and along the street. "Her and her husband just got married like a year ago. They're both really chill."

Halloween decorations are covering the front of the house, fake cobwebs and spiders and a few carved pumpkins. The windows are cracked, and I can hear Halloween music playing quietly. People are also talking.

Joshua doesn't even bother knocking, instead just opening the door and pulling me inside. "Ashley, we're here!" he calls out, toeing off his shoes. I do the same, since this isn't my house and I'm not sure what the rules are.

"Ashley is really excited to meet you," Joshua tells me once my shoes are off. His hands are on my hips, and if his hair wasn't greased back, my hands would be in it.

I smile nervously, settling for my hands on his shoulders instead of his hair. I would kiss him, but that would ruin both of our face paint.

"Lets get on with it before I pass out from nerves," I whisper-laugh. Joshua smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to my ear, the one part of my face that isn't covered in paint.

Joshua pulls me into the living room, where people are sitting and chatting, glasses and bottles of alcohol in their hands. Along the coffee table is an assortment of finger foods, like vegetables and mini sandwiches. "Josh, hi!" a woman I can only assume is Ashley says. She's very pregnant, standing up slowly with a wide smile on her face. It's extremely similar to Joshua's smile, wild almost. Him and Ashley look insanely alike, almost like twins, but her features a little more feminine.

"Hi Ash," he greets her, giving her a tight hug, but making sure to watch out for her belly. When they pull away from each other, Ashley says, "You must be Tyler."

"That's me." I smile sheepishly, and honestly, I only expect her to shake my hand, but she pulls me in for a hug just about as tight as the ones Joshua always embraces me in. Maybe the smiles and hugs run in the family.

"Gosh, you're so handsome," she compliments me, and under all this make up, I'm blushing. "Josh has told me so much about you. He never shuts up."

"Is that so?" I smirk, glancing at Joshua and his wide smile. He isn't even denying it, he just shrugs his shoulders, and we sit down on the couch, and there are a few other people here, all of them which Joshua knows. His brother-in-law, a couple of his sister's friends, a girl named Debby.

I'm drinking grape juice instead of alcohol, and Joshua has a beer, his arm behind me on the couch. We're all laughing at something Ashley has just said about her pregnancy.

This isn't so much of a party as it is a general hangout, but everyone is dressed up, which is fun, even if we are just a bunch of adults sitting in a circle drinking beer on Halloween. Not my ideal Halloween, where I would usually go out and party or whatever as a teenager, but it's nice because Joshua is pressed up against my side.

Being here, it sort of feels a little more serious, like Joshua and I are becoming a little more exclusive. Of course, I haven't asked if he's been sleeping with anyone else, because I don't know if that is any of my business.

Do I want it want it to be my business? Maybe. I mean, it isn't like I'm sleeping with anyone else, because I definitely am not. Joshua is the first person in awhile that I've slept with. And maybe I want to keep it that way.

After a little while, a small ache forms in the pit of my stomach. At least, I think it's my stomach. That general area.

It doesn't stop after about a minute or so, and the ache deepens slightly. I grimace, pressing my fingers to the area that hurts, trying to be subtle about it. Joshua leans over, though, and whispers in my ear, "Are you alright?"

I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. "Y-yeah, I'm good. My stomach hurts is all."

Joshua frowns. "Do you want something to ease it? I'm sure Ashley has Pepto Bismol or Tums."

I shake my head, downing the rest of my grape juice. "It's fine. I'm... Fine."

Joshua frowns again, but nods nevertheless, squeezing my shoulder, his arm resting across them instead of the couch behind me now. I sigh through my nose, and close my eyes, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Gosh, you two are just so cute," Debby says. "How long have you two been together?"

Joshua and I aren't technically together, but Joshua speaks up anyway, "A few weeks."

My stomach aches again, and for some reason, my scalp feels hot. I want to ask Joshua something about what he just said, ask if we're exclusive and in an actual relationship, but when I open my mouth to speak, nothing but a quiet groan of pain escapes my lips. Thankfully, only Joshua hears it.

"Seriously, are you okay?" he whispers.

I shake my head no, because my stomach really, really hurts and my scalp feels hot and I don't know why. Is there something in this juice? Am I being roofied?

"Let me go get you some Tums," Joshua murmurs, and moves to stand up, but I grab his thigh with a grimace. "No, no, I'm just going to use the bathroom," I tell him.

"It's by the front door on the right side," he whispers back.

I nod, and stand up shakily, the pain in my stomach or whatever area worsens. "I'm sorry, I'll just be a sec," I apologize to Ashley and everyone else, locking myself in the bathroom. I sit in the floor, and my skin feels like it's on fire. Like, literal fire, and I can feel sweat beading on my forehead. Great, now the face paint I spent forever on is going to be smudged and ruined. 

My vision is faltering, and I think I might be dying, because I feel like I'm literally about to pass out, and my head is reeling, and my stomach is in so much pain. 

There is a soft knock at the door. "Tyler, it's me," Joshua says. "Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah," I groan, and weakly unlock the door. My body is shaking so hard that my fingers are closing into a fist, and I cannot keep my hand open. God, what the hell is wrong with me?

Joshua quickly closes the door behind himself, and gasps at the sight of me on the floor, back against the bath tub. "Oh my god, Tyler," he breathes, and immediately grabs a wash cloth and runs it under the tap with cold water. He presses is to my forehead, and yeah, my face paint is definitely ruined, but Joshua's is still intact, and he looks so freaking cool. 

"Do you know what's wrong?" Joshua asks, pushing my hair out of my face. I definitely need to buzz it, it's getting way too long. 

"If I knew what was wrong I would know how to fix this," I snap, and I immediately feel terrible because Joshua frowns. He makes no move to back away, though, still pressing the cold washcloth to my forehead. I lean my head back so he doesn't have to hold it, and it feels really nice, but it's doing nothing to help my stomach or shaking body.

I am literally on the verge of tears. My body feels so strange, this has never happened before. I haven't taken any medicine recently that could trigger this, and I doubt I have food poisoning, because nothing I've eaten recently was expired or under-cooked. 

"M-maybe something sweet will help," Joshua says, and he pulls out a little fun size Hershey's bar. "I grabbed this from the coffee table." He unwraps it and discards the wrapper onto the floor next to his legs, the least of either of our concerns right now. 

I try to grab it, my hands still unable to keep themselves open, and I get another weird pain in my stomach. 

"Hey, hey, let me," Joshua coos, and holds the chocolate to my mouth for me to take a bite. I bite off one of the small rectangles and chew, but a few seconds after I swallow it, my stomach convulses and I'm just barely leaning over the bath tub before I'm puking everywhere, my entire body heaving loudly. Stuff I didn't even know I had in me is coming out, even a couple of fruit loops from this morning. 

So maybe something sweet won't help.

"Oh my god, babe," Joshua breathes, rubbing my back reassuringly. Another heave, more throw-up exiting my body. My throat feels hot as my stomach presses into the edge of the bathtub. I don't even have time to think about Joshua's little nickname before I'm throwing up again, but this time, it's barely anything, mostly just dry-heaving. 

Joshua makes a small noise of understanding, at least that's what I think it is, but I'm not quite sure what he's understanding of. He turns the tap on and I can hear him filling up a glass of water. Where did he even get a glass?

Shakily, I lower myself away from the tub, and before I know it, a choked sob leaves my mouth, tears flowing freely. "This isn't even my bathroom," I cry, wiping at my eyes and smudging the paint surrounding them. "Oh god, I'm so stupid!"

"Hey!" Joshua scolds me. "You are not stupid. This isn't even your fault."

"I just threw up in your pregnant sister's - who I just met - bathtub at a fucking Halloween party," I sob this time, and turn to face Joshua, though it's sort of hard to see him through the tears. 

"Tyler, literally stop," he tells me. "Ashley is fine, trust me. She'll be fine, I'll clean it up. Now drink this slowly." He hands me the glass of water, and I sip from it gingerly, though my body is still in pain. 

I've drank about a third of the glass before I hand it back to Joshua, and he smiles softly at me. 

"I think I know why you're like this," he says as he reaches behind me, on his knees, turning on the shower head and letting the water run to rinse out my vomit. His chest is so close my face, I can small his deodorant through his onesie. Again, such a nice smell. 

"W-what is it?" I ask, my voice small. I can't even bring myself to speak at a normal volume, that's how much pain I'm in right now. Or maybe it's because I'm still crying. I just feel so terrible. I've just met Joshua's sister and I've already practically passed out, thrown up, and almost died in her bathroom. Bet she didn't expect that. 

It would be so freaky to die on Halloween. I'd be condemned to haunting Ashley's house forever if I were to die here. 

"You got your period," Joshua says quietly once he's sitting back, legs crossed this time as he faces me. 

My throat immediately dries up, and my stomach churns not with pain this time - though there still is pain - but with nerves. The kind you get when you know you're in trouble and your stepdad has called your name angrily from the bottom of the stairs. No? Just me?

"That - that can't be possible," I splutter. "I haven't had my period in years. The T stopped it!"

Joshua has frowned so much tonight already, and I feel bad because I've probably upset him, but he frowns again, hand rubbing up and down my thigh soothingly. "Sometimes it can come back unexpectedly even with T," he explains. "It could be the way you're inserting it into your body that is causing you to get your period, or that your dosage isn't high enough."

"I've been on the same dosage amount for years!" I squeak. "And the same application method. The pills have always worked for me!"

Joshua chews on his lip. "Maybe your body needs something different."

"How do you even know I got my period?" I ask, and glare at him. "Maybe it's just food poisoning."

"You bled through your onesie and onto the floor," Joshua deadpans. 

My eyes widen in fear. "Oh god, on the floor? Oh no, this is so bad, I-"

"Hey, it's okay. We can clean it up."

"But I have to walk around all night with a blood-stained onesie?"

Joshua shakes his head, and unzips his onesie to reveal a long sleeved black shirt that really hugs his muscles well. Normally, I would comment on it, telling him how good he looks, but I'm too disoriented and in pain to care.

Joshua lifts the shirt off of his head, surgery scars out in the open. "What are you doing?" I ask as he zips his onesie back up, shirtless underneath it. He stands up, helping me up, and I let out a small oh when Joshua ties his shirt around my waist, covering up what I'm guessing is a blood stain on my butt. He closes the toilet seat and helps me sit down. 

The shower has rinsed out all of the vomit by now, so Joshua turns it off. There is, in fact, blood on the floor. If I wasn't on my period after not having it for years, because it's Halloween, I would assume that the blood is maybe a decoration of some sort. But no, it might actually be too small of a stain to be a decoration. No one just has a small blood stain on their floor as a Halloween decoration. 

If they're going to use blood to be scary, make it big and over the top to really scare people. 

Joshua already has a bottle of bleach cleaning spray, and he uses the washcloth that was on my forehead, though it fell off when I vomited in the tub, to wipe off the blood from the floor. "I can do it myself," I offer weakly. "Really, Joshie, you shouldn't have to clean this up."

"Oh, hush," Joshua commands. He puts the bleach spray back under the sink. "I'm going to get you some Midol. I've heard that helps with intense periods like this." He exits the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

I immediately throw my face into my hands, face paint long forgotten, no longer cared about. Seriously, how could this happen? I was on T for about a month before my period went away fully. I don't own any pads or tampons back at my apartment, and obviously Joshua doesn't either, so what the hell am I supposed to do? Go to the store on Halloween wearing a giant skeleton onesie, covered in smeared face paint and a blood stain on my butt just to buy tampons? People will surely call the police. 

Joshua comes back with two little Midol pills in his right hand, and a fist full of tampons in the other. "Uh, Ashley gave me these, said if that isn't enough then she has lots more. It's not like she needs them anyway, she's pretty pregnant."

He hands me the two pills and then the glass of water from before, and I down them both at once. "I can always go to the store tomorrow and buy some," I say.

So, Ashley must know that I'm trans. Joshua probably told her, but god knows when. I wonder if he told her about me after we first hooked up, or not until a few days ago, or maybe not even until today. I mean, the only person I've told about Joshua is Hannah. 

Joshua leaves the bathroom so I can put in a tampon, and I grimace at the state of my underwear. Guess I'll have to throw this pair out. For now, I keep them on, but they're going in the trash as soon as I get home. And a good thing I have stain remover, because this onesie is brand new and I am not letting it get ruined so quick. 

I wash my hands and zip my onesie back up, tying Joshua's shirt around my waist. I'll have to buy him a new one after this. 

I step out of the bathroom, where Joshua is waiting, his shoes already on, and he's holding my belongings and shoes for me. I feel absolutely terrible, but we really should leave, even if we haven't been here for more than half an hour yet. I don't want to be sitting in bloody underwear for any longer than I have to. 

"Let me go say goodbye," I tell him, and he nods, staying behind to wait, meaning he's probably already said goodbye. 

I walk into the living room awkwardly. "I'm so, so, so sorry about what happened," I apologize to Ashley. "I truly am sorry. This is such an awkward way to first meet."

She smiles immediately, taking my hands in hers. "Oh, really, don't worry about it, Tyler. You're so kind, it doesn't matter. I hope you feel better. Happy Halloween."

"Thank you," I whisper, willing the tears to stop forming. "And Happy Halloween to you too."

In the car, I don't even bother to put my shoes on. It's sort of an unspoken agreement that we end up at my place, and Joshua sits on the couch while I take a long, very long shower, sitting on the floor of the tub while I let my mind process things. 

It might be able half an hour by the time I exit the bathroom, a fresh set of pajamas on, the onesie and Joshua's shirt already in the wash. I throw my bloody boxers away. "Do you want to take a shower to get all of that gunk out of your hair and face?" I ask Joshua, leaning over the couch to look at him. He nods tiredly, and he doesn't take nearly as long as I do, maybe ten minutes at most, and I leave him a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, and also a pair of underwear. At this point, I don't think either of us care who's wearing whose clothes. 

I'm making the both of us hot tea when Joshua snakes his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder with a tired sigh. His hair drips onto the back of my neck. 

"Oh my god, you're still wet!" I squeak, pulling away from him, though he just laughs. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He motions at his body. "All dry."

I throw a dish towel at him playfully. "Go dry your hair, you dog."

He smiles mischievously. 'You know how dogs dry themselves out, right?"

I glare at him dangerously. "You do that and I'll make you sleep on the couch."

He immediately puts his hands up in defense, and though I would never actually make him sleep on the couch, he still accepts his defeat and towel tries his hair, making it messier than it already is naturally. 

We end up on the couch for now, under a blanket, holding out hot teas. 

My stomach churns with the thought of what's happening to me, but I push it down, because right now, all I want to focus on is the way Joshua's body feels so warm pressed up against mine.


	7. Seven

My fingers smell like maple syrup, and I'm not quite sure how, because I don't even own any maple syrup, and I didn't have any this morning at Joshua's. Phantom maple syrup, that's really odd. 

I'm focusing on my fingers, bouncing my leg up and down against one of the many chairs in this waiting room. I have my wallet and phone with me, and it sounds dumb, because I just saw him this morning, but I really miss Joshua. I find myself always wanting to be in his presence. He's just so warm, he's like a magnet, like the ground and I'm an apple falling from a tree under the effects of gravity.

"Tyler Joseph?" My name is called and I look up from my oddly sweet-smelling fingers to see my hormone replacement therapist standing with her foot holding open the door that leads to all of the examination rooms, or whatever the hell they're used for rooms. She was the one to put me on my first testosterone prescription. 

"Hi, that's me," I say, standing up, pulling the ends of my sleeves over my hands with just my fingers peeking out to hold them in place. 

As soon as the door is closed and it's just us in the hallway, she says, "You got your name changed finally!"

I smile proudly. She's known me since I was still legally Taylor, but only because I haven't legally been Tyler for very long. Maybe a couple months at most. "I did," I tell her. "It feels so great, I almost can't believe it when people call me Tyler."

I might have worded that wrong, because yeah, I can completely believe it when people recognize me as Tyler and not Taylor, and use the right pronouns and whatnot, it's just that to have it be my actual legal name feels so surreal, like maybe I'm dreaming and at any moment I could wake up. 

Though, three days ago when I got my period, the dream was pretty much a nightmare. Terrifying, and I hate it, and I'm still on my period, because back when I got it regularly, it would last for eight days, and it was absolute hell. It isn't really that bad at the moment because I have pain medication, the Midol, but the feeling is so odd. I don't like the wet feeling of it.

My therapist's name is Dr. Williams, but she makes me call her by her first name, Hayley. She is also trans, and I think it's really cool of her to turn her own experiences into experiences she can give others. And having a trans doctor dealing with trans medicine and issues is so much better than having a cis doctor, because Hayley was firsthand experience. 

I think I might be saying experience too much. 

"So, I know we spoke over the phone, but I wanted to clarify just to make sure I'm getting everything right."

I nod, the sanitation paper covering the room's bed crinkling underneath the weight of my butt. 

I think Hayley has taken notes, because she is reading off of her computer. "You started feeling really sick and hot, and you threw up everywhere, and then discovered you had gotten your period?" She asks, swiveling around in her chair to face me. She stays near the desk, though it isn't more than eight feet from the bed I am sitting on. 

"Yeah, I was at a Halloween party at my-" Still, I don't know what label to put on Joshua and I's relationship, because we haven't talked about it, and I don't just want to go around calling him my boyfriend because he might not think we're boyfriends yet. "-I was just at a Halloween party, and I started to get stomach pains - which I later found out were actually cramps," I continue. "I excused myself to the bathroom and I swear I thought I was dying. I've never had a period this bad before."

Hayley nods this time. She's wearing a white lab coat and even has a little name tag that says Dr. Hayley Williams, Hormone Replacement Therapist engraved into it. Fancy. 

"Now obviously I don't have any experiences with periods," Hayley starts, "but I do know a lot about them. What you're experiencing isn't entirely uncommon, Tyler."

I raise my eyebrows. "It's not?"

Hayley shakes her head, and turns back to her computer, scrolling down a couple of word-filled pages before settling on one. "I know you've been on the pill for a couple of years, and you were pretty lucky with it."

I look at her inquisitively as she turns back to face me. "The pill is rarely prescribed because it is the least effective in stopping the menstrual cycle, but I only prescribed it to you because it was your first time on T and I didn't want you taking anything too harsh for your body."

"Why have I not had my period if the pill is the least effective?" I ask. 

"You were just lucky, there's always the one or two people that don't have periods on the pill," Hayley explains. "But it just isn't entirely effective, which is why your body is finally acting up against it."

That is so odd. I would like to say I'm educated on the different effects of testosterone besides it making me look and sound like a man, but if I'm being honest, I'm actually sort of in the dark. I don't ever remember Hayley warning me about still getting my period, but even if she did, it's not like I would care, because almost as soon as I started using the pill, my period stopped. I had no concerns about it after that until now. 

"Luckily for you," Hayley continues talking once I say nothing, "I've set a prescription for you. It's injectable, and you don't have to take it every day like the pill. Only once a week, and it has to be injected into your thigh or butt."

Now, this is something I actually do know a little bit about, because Joshua takes injectable testosterone. I've never actually seen him inject it, but maybe I'll ask him for help once it comes time to actually do it. 

Good thing I'm not scared of needles, because if I was, I would absolutely throw a fit about the injections. But it's okay, everything is fine. I'm a grown man. 

"Did you take your normal daily pill already?"

I shake my head. "I usually take them at night, or in the evenings."

Hayley hums, and stands up, walking towards the door. "I'm going to go and grab your prescription, I'll be just a few minutes. When I get back I can show you how to inject it."

She's gone for no more than five minutes, and yeah, I have to pull my pants down, but she helps me inject the testosterone for the first time, explaining that I should do it in a different spot each time because the previously injected spot will be sore for awhile. The testosterone is liquid. Liquid man. Man juice. Man water?

I leave with a slightly sore thigh from the injection, and my actual prescriptions in a small plastic bag. My car is finally fixed, so I can drive around the city and not have to use my legs. 

I have nothing better to do, and since I don't work on Sundays, I could easily do whatever. Maybe Joshua is home. I sit down in my car, close the door, and before I start it, I text him, and curse myself because I've started picking up his little texting mannerisms with the little :P signs. 

hey, i just not my new t prescription and i have nothing better to do, can i come over :P

He responds almost immediately, which makes me smile, because no matter what, he always texts back quickly. He's just perfect, oh my god. 

He, too, types in lowercase like I do, though his grammar is definitely more presentable than mine. I couldn't care less about how I text, as long as the message gets across then I don't give a shit.

Joshua's message reads: i'm at work right now, and probably won't be home until around four, but you're welcome to head over and hang out with brendon. :)

The fact that he ends the sentence with a period and then adds the smiley face after the sentence is over makes me laugh, because it's so Joshua. I toss my phone onto the passenger seat next to the small plastic bag and head for Joshua's, but not before stopping at the Burger King drive thru. Since it's around lunchtime, I figure that Brendon will probably be hungry, and though I don't know him incredibly well, he has to put up with Joshua and I's noise a lot. 

I've never seen Brendon's boyfriend and girlfriend before, which means they probably don't do it at Joshua's and his apartment ever. 

Well, I'm definitely wrong about that, because as soon as I unlock the front door of their apartment with the spare key under the mat, and call out, "Hey, Brendon, it's me. I brought lunch!" I am met face to face with a very tall man's ass. I can see it from where I'm standing in the front entry way, and oh my god who and WHAT the hell?

It has to be Brendon's boyfriend, and obviously Brendon is here too because this is his apartment and Joshua said he would be home, but I can also hear Brendon's girlfriend. Great, fantastic, this is just peachy. 

I don't think any of the three of them could hear me yelling out that I have lunch, so I slam the door shut and Brendon yelps. "Oh god," I hear his boyfriend say. "Josh, is that you?"

"No, it's Tyler!" I reply, and move so that my back is against the closet so I can't see any naked people. I don't really want to see anyone other than Joshua naked at the moment. 

Brendon stumbles into the front entryway wearing a loose tank top and sweatpants, his hair very disheveled and a thin coat of sweat beading at his forehead. "Uh, wow, okay, I'm really sorry you had to witness that," he apologizes frantically. "Did you - you didn't see anything, did you?"

"Just your boyfriend's ass," I deadpan. Brendon groans, hiding his face in his hands. 

"This is such a terrible way for you guys to first meet," he breathes, but it's actually kind of funny. Maybe this is an unintended way of getting back at Joshua and I are being so loud sometimes. Perfectly understandable, because Brendon has literally opened the door one time to tell us to shut up. Good thing we had the blanket covering us. 

"Sort of, yeah." I rub my nose awkwardly. "I brought lunch, but I don't think I'm hungry anymore, so... I guess you guys can have it."

Brendon smiles crookedly, running his hands through his hair. "Thanks. Come on, you can meet Sarah and Dallon."

Dallon, that's a nice name. Nice name for a person with a nice ass. 

I follow him shyly into the living room and kitchen area, where Sarah is hooking on her bra and Dallon is shimmying on a pair of black pants. They turn when Brendon coughs awkwardly. "Oh!" Sarah says, and she immediately blushes, reaching for her sweater. 

"Hey man," Dallon says. "I'm... Uh, really sorry you had to see that."

I shrug my shoulders. "Must be payback for what Brendon has to go through with Joshua and I."

Brendon huffs, nudging me with his hip as a way of agreement. 

"Oh, yeah, you're Josh's boyfriend!" Sarah says. "That makes a lot of sense."

Again, not really sure if we're boyfriends or not, but okay. Maybe I should talk to Joshua about that, it might be pretty helpful to establish a label on whatever the hell it is we're doing. Sarah and Dallon are quickly dressed, and Dallon shakes my hand. "I'm Dallon, and this is Sarah." Sarah waves minutely at me even though we're like five feet apart, and I smile at the two. 

"I know who you guys are," I tell them, and I laugh. "And obviously you know who I am. Tyler."

I shrug off my jacket and lay it over the back of the desk chair, and Brendon asks, "Well, Tyler brought lunch, so I guess we can eat?" He turns to me. "Are you sure you don't want anything, Tyler?"

Well, I did buy myself chicken nuggets and I really was excited to eat them, so...

"I guess I'll eat something," I say, shrugging. Brendon sets out the contents of the bag, and there's enough for all of us, because I really wasn't sure what to get Brendon, so we all sit at the kitchen table, and I can finally eat my chicken nuggets. 

It's quiet for awhile and I'm sort of glad I bought enough food for everybody. I don't want to seem intrusive, but I'm genuinely curious about Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon's relationship, so after swallowing my food, I ask, "Can I ask you guys something... about your relationship?"

"Of course," Brendon says. "What do you want to know?"

I take a sip of my water. "How do you guys do it? I mean, is there no jealousy?" 

That probably sounds so ignorant, and I immediately regret it. I should probably just keep my mouth shut from now on. 

This is when Sarah speaks up. "A lot of people don't really understand that there's no jealousy. But in all honesty, the only way to even have a relationship regardless of the number of people in it is to have trust. You can't have any type of relationship if you're a jealous person. And that's how it is with us. We all trust each other fully, and that's why there's no worry."

That is true. I'm not normally a jealous person, I guess, but I have my moments. Now, if Joshua is sleeping with other people, of course I'd like to know, but I really don't think I'd be too bothered. I mean, from my knowledge, we aren't exactly exclusive - or at least not yet. 

"That makes a lot of sense," I say. Good for them. 

We don't talk much further into their relationship, and after we have all finished off the food, they gravitate towards the couch. I'm not entirely sure that I want to sit on that couch after what I witnessed coming into the apartment, so I make excuse saying that I'm tired and that I'm going to take a nap in Joshua's room.

I shut the door, and I don't really plan on taking a nap at first, but I shimmy myself under the blanket that hasn't been made, curling up into a ball. I close my eyes. It smells strongly of Joshua, and it's almost as if he's here with me, holding me in his arms. 

Oh wait, he is. 

"I thought you got off of work at four?" Did I actually fall asleep until Joshua came home?

Joshua laughs, his breath splaying out across the back of my neck. "I did, you were just asleep."

"I swear I just laid down," I groan. Like, not even a minute ago, I was laying down. How did time pass that quick? I don't even remember falling asleep. But maybe it's because the bed is so warm.

"Well, you must have been asleep for awhile," Joshua says. "I'm tired too, work is stupid."

"What did you do?"

Joshua stretches his legs, letting out a loud groan. He turns so that his stomach is pressed against the mattress, his arms curled up underneath him, but his head is turned to face me. "Just rearranging," he breathes. "My back hurts."

I smile, and sit up, straddling his back in a quick motion. I begin massaging his back, and he lets out a breathy sigh of relief. "How was your day?" he asks, closing his eyes. He is smiling contently. 

"I got my new T prescription. Turns out I got my period because the pills are super ineffective in stopping periods, so they took me off of it. Now I have to use the injectable ones." Joshua hums when I press into the small of his back with the heel of my hand, stretching his legs out again. "And then I came here, but Brendon and his boyfriend and girlfriend were having sex on the couch, so that was neat."

"They were doing it on the couch?" Joshua asks, turning around in surprise. I yelp because it startles me, and I nearly fall off of the bed, but Joshua sits so that he can look at me without me actually falling off. "Oh, that's so gross. I sit on there!"

"Apparently they have sex on there too," I laugh. "I saw Dallon's ass."

"God, that's so gross." Joshua rolls his eyes and buries his nose in the crook of my neck. "I'm going to have to wash the cushions or something now."

I smack his chest lightly. "Oh, stop overreacting, just lay down a blanket." We haven't exactly kissed yet, so I kiss Joshua by grabbing his face, it's sort of rough and maybe a little needy, but he kisses back almost immediately. Maybe we can pull a quick one.

Though, I realize I'm still actually on my period, so we can't have sex today. Not until it ends. And hopefully this will be the last period I ever get because the injections are highly effective. And it only takes a few days to settle into my body apparently, which means I don't have to worry about having my period for much longer. 

When Joshua pulls away from the surprisingly long kiss, he says, "Can I talk to you about something?" He looks a little distraught, like whatever he's going to talk to me about will send me running for the hills. 

I smooth back the curls framing his forehead. "Of course."

He begins massaging the meat of my thighs. It feels weirdly therapeutic.

"I really like you, Tyler," he breathes. "Like, a lot more than I have anyone else in a long time. But there's something that's beginning to worry me."

"What's that?" I whisper, suddenly terrified that he's going to tell me he doesn't want to see me anymore, or that I'm no good and that I need to leave. Hopefully that isn't the case, because he wouldn't just tell me that he likes me and then ask me to get out. That's not nice.

Joshua frowns. "I'm scared that our relationship is becoming too focused on sex and nothing else. I'm afraid that's all you see me as - someone to have sex with."

Okay, he may be right, though definitely not on the second part. Mostly every time we've seen each other, it has ended in us having sex. But he is not just someone I see as a sexual object, definitely not. I like him a lot too, and I like having sex with him, but I also like just being around him. "Joshie," I whisper, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheekbone. "I don't see you as someone just to have sex with. While the sex we have is amazing, that's not all that I'm focused on. I'm focused on you, not just your body."

"What do you mean?" Joshua asks. He runs his fingers over the hair at the nape of my neck, leaving goosebumps along my skin. 

I sigh shakily. "When you first took your shirt off, I knew this was going to be more than just sex. You're just like me, and people like us are so hard to find." Joshua nods, and I think I might be crying. I'm not sure why, this is such a sensitive thing for me to be talking about. "I thought at first you were just going to be a one time thing, but the moment I found out that you're trans too, I knew that I wanted more than just sex. I want to be with you, Joshua. I want to call you mine and have people see us holding hands on the street because we're together. And that is so much more than sex, even if the sex is phenomenal. We're similar in more ways than just our bodies."

Joshua's eyes are welling up with tears too, and he smiles through them, burying his face under my chin. He lets out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around my body. "B-be my boyfriend?" he asks. "I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner."

"Of course," I say, and then he pulls me backwards, and I squeak out in surprise, but laugh nevertheless, because Joshua's happiness is just so incredibly contagious. 

"Let me make you dinner," he says into the soft skin of my throat. 

He pulls me up and through the hallway to the kitchen, and Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon are watching another movie, all curled up on the couch. Sarah is sitting with her legs over Dallon's lap, and Brendon has his head on Sarah's legs. They look very cozy. 

"Tyler told me what you three were up to," Joshua tells them. "Disgusting. You should be buying me a brand new couch!" He's joking, obviously, and Brendon does nothing but flip him off in return. They're best friends, definitely. I wish I had a best friend, that would be so nice. 

I mean, I guess Hannah could be classified as a best friend. Though, we really only see each other during work. Maybe I'll have to change that. 

After dinner, which is grilled cheese sandwiches, Joshua and I fall asleep fully clothed, arms around each other. Even though I slept over last night, and probably will be again, I don't think I ever want to move.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have time to edit this because I wrote it in school. Please excuse any mistakes.

I think the first thing Joshua says to me when I pick him up from work is, "Why the hell is there a picnic basket in my seat?" It is in no way harsh, so I laugh, picking it up and moving it out of the way to the back seat, where a few thick blankets are folded up, and possibly a bottle of wine... 

I'm a pretty classy guy, if I do say so myself.

"Just get in," I laugh, starting up the car once Joshua has shut his door. He's still wearing his work shirt, but it's a good thing I brought sweaters because it's very cold outside. 

"You know, you really didn't have to pick me up from work," Joshua says. "Or drop me off this morning. I could have driven." He leans over the console to kiss me, and his breath smells like mint, and I could just kiss him forever if it was allowed. 

Kissing has always felt kind of weird, all squishy and wet and odd. Like, your mouth is on another person's mouth. It's just weird. But I like kissing Joshua, even if the act itself is weird. I shrug my shoulders once Joshua pulls away, and he takes my hand so I guess I'll have to drive with one hand. No problem, I won't crash. At least I hope I won't. I don't have much experience driving with one hand. 

"If I hadn't picked you up then it would take us longer to get to our destination."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, thumb grazing over my knuckles. "What destination?"

"I've decided one of our first acts as boyfriends is to go on a date," I mention. "Like, a real one. To Lake Erie."

Joshua's wide smile appears, the one that makes my heart skip a beat every time I see it. I could watch him smile forever, and if I was still a dumb teenager he would be my phone background. Or maybe I can still do that, but I know teenagers still do it too. Maybe I will do that. "If you so much as try to get a single drop of water from that lake on me I will push you in and not be sorry about it," he threatens, but he's still smiling. God, that smile. I love it. I love his face so much. 

Joshua eventually plugs his phone into the aux cord, which means he has to disconnect our hands, and mine immediately feels cold at the loss of his touch. But then it is back, and his warmth floods through my body, from my head to my toes, and if I weren't driving, I would crawl onto his lap and push myself up against him to gain as much warmth as I can. 

The drive to Lake Erie from Columbus is about three hours because we have to drive around Cleveland. "What did you put in the basket?" Joshua asks, turning around to look at it. 

"Just some snacks." He reaches back and grabs one of the sweaters, and yeah, our hands are disconnected again, but Joshua unbuckles himself and pulls his work shirt off. His freckled chest is immediately covered in goosebumps and he shivers as he puts the sweater on over his body. "God, it's freezing," he breathes, shivering as he turns up the heat to full blast. 

It's going to warm up the car really quickly, possibly make it too hot, but if it makes Joshua happy and warm and content, then I will gladly sweat my body weight off for him. 

...

"What are you thinking about?" Joshua's hands are under his head and he watches the stars as I snuggle underneath the blanket we are sharing. It is the one off of my bed, big and warm and more than enough to cover the both of us. The ground was wet so we threw a blanket down to cover it so we wouldn't have to get our own clothes wet. 

"How uncomfortable this ground is," I grumble, and something about the stars or Joshua's eyes probably would have been more fitting, but grass is not fun to lay on. It's hard and uncomfortable and I regret not bringing an air mattress or something for us to lay on. 

We have eaten the majority of the food by now, and have drank a glass of wine each, no further than that because we actually have to drive back tonight because we both have work sometime tomorrow. Joshua laughs, a quiet breath, and he pops his neck too, before propping himself up on his elbow. 

"We can go back into the car if you want," he offers. "It's kind of cold out here anyway."

"But if we go in the car then we'll have to leave," I whisper. "I don't want to leave just yet."

Joshua sits up. "Who says we have to leave? We can just lay in the back for a little bit. Come on." He quickly stands up and pulls his shoes back on, grabbing my hand to pull me up. He hands me the basket, and says, "Put this in the car, I'll fold the blankets up."

So I do put it in the car, and in the process of putting the bottle of wine back in the basket too, I just so happen to find the weed I paid Hannah for. I bought it with the purpose of us using it tonight, and Hannah really didn't make me pay a fortune. I guess I kind of forgot about it up until now. 

"Hey Joshie?" I call to him, and he says, "Hmm?"

I hold the small bag of weed up and the bowl that I brought along too. "Do you think we have enough time to smoke this?"

Joshua squints because it's sort of hard to see in the dark without a flashlight, but once he recognizes what it is that I am holding up, he asks, "You brought weed?" I seriously haven't smoked weed in awhile, so I don't know what I'm going to be like high. I don't know what Joshua is like high either, but judging from the fact that he drove me home after I witnessed him smoking weed when we first met, I'd say he's a pretty calm stoner. Like, the weed only relaxes his body, it doesn't make him hallucinate shit. 

"Yeah, I bought some from Hannah," I tell him. "I haven't smoked it in awhile but I figured since you have a lot more experience with it, I figured we could use it tonight."

"I actually haven't smoked in awhile either," Joshua admits. "Not since the night we met. Brendon smokes a lot more than I do. He's always smoking it with Sarah."

"What about Dallon?"

Joshua shrugs. "He's not that into it." Joshua grabs the folded up blankets then, and reaches into the car to put them and then the basket into the passenger seat where he was sitting on the way here. His sweater rides up slightly as he is bent over, and even in the darkness, I can make out the little dimples in his back just above his butt, small shadows cast. 

The water of the lake is still, and the stars reflect off of it. The moon is hardly a sliver in the sky, but it still casts an illuminated glow on the hood of my car. Joshua climbs into the back seat once everything is cleared, and pulls me with him. I close the door and shove the keys into the ignition just so I can turn on the heat. It feels a lot better than being outside. 

Joshua leans back against the opposite window, just watching me, a small smile evident on his lips. He looks dazed, almost, and it's funny because neither of us have even touched the weed yet, but it seems like Joshua is high. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I laugh softly, scooting a little closer. 

Joshua shrugs, scooting a little closer too. "'Cause you're beautiful."

I roll my eyes. "You're such a sap, I bet you're just waiting for me to open this." I wave the little baggie in front of his face but he makes no move to grab it, literally still scooting closer. 

"That's where you're painfully wrong," he whispers. "I could look at you forever. You're seriously the most gorgeous person I've ever met."

I'm pretty sure that even in the darkness Joshua can see the color tint of my cheeks, a flaming red. I only know I'm blushing because my cheeks feel really hot. What makes people blush anyway? Is it just a chain reaction, or does it have something to do with endorphins? I've always wondered why we blush when we are complimented or whatever. 

Joshua and I haven't known each other for that long, maybe like a month at most, if even that, but something about him makes me feel so at home, like I've been wandering in a desert and he's a bottle of water I've stumbled upon. Or I'm soil and he's rain replenishing the roots of the plants buried in my lungs. He makes me feel like I'm breathing in and out flowers. 

I think the weed might be forgotten when Joshua cups the back of my neck with his hand and pulls me in, flushing our bodies against each other. The fantasy of me being pressed up against his chest that I had whilst driving is true, and my head is dangerously close to hitting the ceiling of the car. 

He nudges under my eye with his nose, and my eyes flutter closed. I want to breathe him in, the rain to my flower breath, the ground that I am falling onto. And I've fallen hard, too, though I'm not sure if I want to get back up. 

"Can we just stay here forever?" I mumble. "Never move, just stay right here and right now for as long as time goes on."

"Fine by me." Joshua's eyelashes tickle my ear and his lips drag lazily across my jaw. When we first had sex, something about it felt like we had known each other for years, had been lovers for years, and our bodies were so in sync with each other that it made my head spin. My head now is clouded, because the only thing I can think about is Joshua even though he's holding onto me so tight. Though my eyes are closed, I still find one of his little curls, and I twirl it around in my fingers. 

"I have to watch my mom's dog this weekend," Joshua mentions after a few minutes of silence and me playing with his hair. "Tomorrow and Saturday, at least. She's going to visit my brother at his college and Ashley's too pregnant to watch her."

I hum in response, my eyes feeling rather heavy. I couldn't care less about smoking weed right now as long as Joshua is here, still pressed up against me. I'm pretty sure I can go a weekend without seeing Joshua too. We're around each other so often, I think sometimes he might get sick of me being around him. 

"I wanna sleep," I mumble. "You're too warm."

"We both have work in the morning, though," Joshua mentions, and his breath splays out over my skin, sinking into every little pore of my body. "How would we get home on time? I have to work from nine to six, and you have to work from twelve to eight."

"Please don't remind me." I rub my eyes tiredly, a yawn escaping my lips. "Work should be illegal. End capitalism."

Joshua laughs, hands under the back of my shirt now, playing with the soft skin of my hips. "Come on, we should probably head back soon if we want to get any sleep before either of us have to work. I'll drive," Joshua offers, and after some grumbling from me about how I never want to leave and that we should probably smoke the weed, Joshua and I move the basket to the back seat, throw the weed into the glove compartment for another day, and I keep one of the blankets to sleep with.

Because I was so close to Joshua, his warmth or whatever has made me tired, and I fall asleep not even ten minutes into the drive with Joshua's hand playing with my hair. Maybe I won't buzz it off after all. 

...

I drive Joshua back to his apartment at eight so he can drive afterwards to watch his mom's dog, but I'm still in my pajamas, and he kisses me goodbye before running up to his apartment. I fall asleep in my own bed for another two hours before I actually have to be up and showered, and today, I wear my binder and not my tape.

Hannah waves to me when I walk into work, and I give her a tired smile, tying my apron back with cold hands. "How are you?" she asks. I don't go behind the bar today because I already have a couple of people that are either ready to order or just sat down and need me to take drink orders. 

"Tired," I groan, rubbing my eyes again. "I had to drive Joshua to his apartment at eight this morning."

Hannah raises an eyebrow. "He slept over again?"

I roll my eyes at her smirk, and ignore any further questions she gives me because I go and take orders, and I'm running back and forth from the kitchen to the dining area because the lunch rush just has to be packed today. Great, fantastic, I love working so much. 

It isn't too bad when Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon come in, though, and Brendon hugs me the moment he sees me. "W-what are you doing here?" I gasp when he pulls away, and he holds me at arms length, almost as if he's a proud parent or a relative telling me how much I have grown at Christmas. Sarah and Dallon hug me too, and I've decided Dallon gives great hugs. He's just so tall, his arms could wrap around my body twice. 

"Josh told us about how you work here, said we should check it out," Brendon mentions, and then he pulls Sarah and Brendon along to find a table. They find one of the booths, Dallon and Sarah on one side and Brendon on the other, and without bothering to pick up the menu, Brendon is already playing with both of their hands. He looks drunk, almost, but I know he's completely sober. He must be really in love with those two. 

The lunch rush is still going, it's usually about two or three hours, and I'm still running from table to table to kitchen to table when Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon finally order, it takes about half an hour for their food to be ready because the cooks are also rushing, so I meekly apologize and let them eat their food. 

When they leave, they also leave a tip and a smiley face on the bill, which actually makes me feel really good because not a lot of people do that, even if it's a small smiley face. 

The lunch rush is over after what feels like a million years, and it mellows out again, so I am allowed a twenty minute break. I immediately get behind the bar to talk to Hannah. "Those were your friends?" She asks me without even mentioning who, because it is pretty obvious who she is talking about anyway. 

"Yeah. Joshua's roommate and his boyfriend and girlfriend."

Hannah hums in response, sitting down with me. I think both of us are pretty tired, me because Joshua and I got back late last night and then I had to wake up early to drive him to work, and Hannah because, well, I don't know. 

"How can it only be three in the afternoon and I already want to sleep again?" I groan. 

"You wanna come over after work for a little bit?" Hannah asks. "I don't think we've ever actually hung out outside of work."

I nod, not even bothering to use my words as an answer. It's as if she has read my mind, because I was thinking about hanging out with her not too long ago outside of work. But I guess that’s just Hannah. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had mind-reading powers or something. She could be a cult leader and I still wouldn’t be surprised. Hannah is great. If she was a cult leader, I’d probably follow her. Maybe.

The rest of my break consists of both me dreading getting back to work and my stomach grumbling at me for food. I could go into the break room and eat something from the fruit bowl that is always stocked, but I stay here with Hannah, just sitting.

Hannah doesn’t do an insane amount of work during the day like I do - it is usually during dinnertime that more customers come up to the bar to order drinks. But Hannah’s job is to stay at the bar and serve drinks, that’s all she really does. I could do it too, if I wanted, but waiting on tables is already more than enough for me to handle.

By the time it is near closing, I feel like I’m going to collapse because the dinner rush was just as bad as the lunch rush. Tables were completely full, people had to wait outside, and it made me wonder when the hell our restaurant became so popular. I mean, I know it has always been popular, even before I started working here, but still. It’s almost as if every time I have to work the amount of people has tripled.

The restaurant has finally closed, I have worked the entire day, and I just want to go home and sleep, but Hannah invited me over and it isn’t like I can say no after already agreeing. That would be a shitty thing to do.

It is eight-thirty by the time Hannah and I actually get out of there, because we have to wipe tables and put chairs up on them and then sweep, and it would have taken even longer if everyone else who works there didn’t help. Because I’m not the only waiter, it’s just that sometimes I feel like I am because there is so much work to do and it seems like no one is doing anything. Or maybe they are and I’m just not paying attention.

And I don’t want to feel bad for myself because I’m actually the one causing this. I bring on the workload because I am always asking for more hours than they are naturally giving me - more work means more money, and it isn’t like I have anything else to do besides work. I don’t have any passions, no hobbies. The only thing I look forward to outside of work is seeing Joshua, and before meeting him, I had absolutely nothing to look forward to besides my bed, maybe.

“Did you ever end up using what I gave you?” Hannah asks, zipping up her coat as we walk outside. I know what she’s referring to, and no, we didn’t end up using it last night, and I have no idea if we will because Joshua has his own - or at least what he shares with Brendon. If they share, I don’t know.

I shake my head. “No, we got sort of distracted and forgot about it.”

Hannah raises an eyebrow, but we continue walking. Our cars are parked right next to each other, coincidentally. “Distracted?” Again, I know what she’s referring to, but that’s not the kind of distracted I mean. Because we didn’t do it in my car, and I don’t ever want to do it my car - it would be far too uncomfortable. I scoff, unlocking my car door because obviously I’m just going to follow her to her apartment rather than having her drive me.

“I was really tired,” I tell her. “Not that kind of distracted.”

It is cold enough for our breath to billow out in clouds. When I was a child, I always imagined that I was a dragon and that my air would actually be me blowing out smoke into the cold. Having such an innocent mentality seems so appealing now. How much easier would it be to just be a kid again? Except, you know, without the gender confusion and suffering. That would be fantastic.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I wasn’t me. Or, o make my thoughts sound more accurate, if I wasn’t trans. If I was okay with being cis. I can only wonder, or imagine, but I don’t think there is another me in any sort of alternate universe that could stick with that. And nothing against cis people, of course not, but still. I never was comfortable with being a girl, and having this sort of change in my life - the new T injections especially - has really helped me. I’m more myself. Even if I did have to suffer for awhile, it was worth it.

Hannah waves her hand in front of my face. “Tyler, I asked you a question.”

I am snapped out of my thoughts abruptly, blinking twice in confusion. “Oh, sorry, I guess I was just thinking.” My cheeks are red with not just the cold, but also with a blush. I know I can’t actually see if I’m blushing, but I can definitely feel it. It’s warm, I’m warm in my jacket.

“Are you sure you still want to come over?” Hannah asks. “You seem kind of… Out of it.”

I shake my head dismissively. “I still want to come over, it’s okay. Seriously.”

Hannah looks a little unsure, but she nods, unlocking her car. I do the same for mine. “Just follow my car, I guess. It isn’t a long drive.” It really isn’t, the streets are a little clearer this time of night, and Hannah guides me to her apartment within ten minutes. It is on the third floor, and we take the elevator for the sake of our tired legs, which are worn out from standing all day. Hannah is always standing behind that bar.

Hannah has a dog, I don’t remember her name, but I know Hannah has mentioned it before. Lucy, maybe? The dog is wearing a yellow bandana around her neck, and she bolts towards Hannah and I from off of the couch the moment the door opens. “Hi, baby!” Hannah says, grabbing the dog’s face in her hands and planting a big kiss to her forehead. “I missed you!”

After Hannah releases her, she comes for me, licking my hands, and she’s freaking adorable. A little chubby, but she’s still gorgeous. I love dogs.

“How come she always comes running for you but never for me?” a voice asks from the couch. It’s feminine, but Hannah never mentioned anything about a roommate. Maybe the topic just never came up.

“Because she likes me better,” Hannah gloats to whomever this person is. She shrugs off her coat and throws her keys and wallet into a small glass bowl sitting on a table by the front door, placed directly under a mirror. There is another set of keys in the bowl, which I’m guessing belong to her roommate.

A girl with hair that is a darker, more turquoise green color walks into the front area, and she is in her pajamas, pants that display a bunch of cats. Cute. “Hi, I’m Michaela,” she greets me, and pulls me into a hug before I can so much as blink. She’s a strong hugger.

When Michaela pulls away, I allow myself to breathe. “I’m Tyler,” I say. “Uh… Hannah’s coworker.”

“I know!” She’s smiling, she has a really nice smile, a really nice face, and even though we’ve known each other for about thirty seconds, she seems like a good person that I could potentially be friends with. “Hannah has told me a lot about you.” Seriously?

“Yeah, Michaela and I sort of tell each other everything,” Hannah mentions. She pulls her shoes off so I do the same, only trying to be polite. I hang my coat up on the rack next to hers. She turns to me, and asks, “Would you like anything to drink? Or do you want to go smoke in my room?”

Michaela rolls her eyes. “If you’re going to smoke, close the door and keep the window open. I don’t want the smell drifting into my room.”

“Uh, sure.” I turn to Hannah. “I guess just some water would be good. And yeah… To the smoking part.”

Hannah smiles, and grabs two bottles of water from the fridge before pulling me along to her bedroom. I’m a little surprised by the appearance for some reason. I don’t know why, but I think I might have expected Hannah to have an orderly, themed room. But that isn't it at all. Her room isn’t dirty, of course not, but the walls are lined from corner to corner with posters of bands and singers. Kind of like my room when I was a teenager.

Hannah must notice my amazement at the appearance of her room, because she laughs as she shuts the door with her foot and says, “Yeah, I’m pretty passionate about music.”

“I can see that,” I laugh, and then Hannah sits on the bed, handing me a bottle of water as she opens the top drawer of her dresser. She digs through some socks before pulling out a small bag of weed, but they are already rolled up into blunts. She gave me nuggets. I guess she must have a lot.

“Michaela doesn’t smoke,” she mumbles as she digs one of the blunts out of the bag. “If she did, I can only imagine what she’d do. God, that would be funny.”

I don’t say anything because I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to. So I just sit in her desk chair, and this kind of feels like we’re teenagers again. Even though I didn’t know Hannah as a teenager, I think the overall aura of her room gives me the feeling of still being one. Being a teenager was hard, I’m so glad I graduated high school and hightailed it out of there.

Hannah lights the blunt with a lighter and takes a long drag, handing it to me afterwards. Because I haven’t smoked in awhile, and I mean awhile, it burns my throat and I hate it at first. But I keep going, Hannah does do, and by the time the blunt is gone, I think I might be lost in my head.

My body feels like it’s floating, like I’m levitating above the desk chair, and Hannah is sprawled out across her bed, her eyes closed. “This is nice,” she hums. My body is so calm, I forgot what being high feels like.

“I should call Joshua!” I blurt out, and I don’t even remember thinking about calling, but I think my mind and body are in two different places at the moment. Hannah cheers lazily, and I fish my phone out of my pocket, messily pressing the video call button on Joshua’s contact. It rings once, twice, three, four times, and then Joshua’s face is lighting up my screen.

He’s sitting on a couch, which is his mom’s, because he is sleeping the night at her house to watch her dog. “Hey, what’s up?” he says. He looks tired, and honestly, I don’t blame him. I don’t think he got a ton of sleep either last night, because he drove back instead of me. I was way too tired to drive, so Joshua pushed through.

I set the phone down on the desk, up against a container of pens, so that it can stand up without me having to hold it. “I’m at Hannah’s.”

“Oh, nice.” He nods. “What are you doing?”

I smile. “Being high… Possibly. Plausibly. Yes.”

Joshua laughs, and I hear his mom’s dog barking, so he lifts himself up and off of the couch, and I can see that he isn’t really wearing a shirt. The camera quality isn’t the greatest in the world, but it’s pretty good, enough for me to make out the scruff he didn’t have time to shave off this morning. He should grow his scruff out, that would look so good. Joshua with a beard. Nice.

“What are you doing?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. My body still feels like it’s floating, and Hannah is playing a game on her phone. Joshua sits back down on the couch after closing a door. “Watching television. I think I might go to bed soon.” He checks the time and then groans. “God, it’s almost ten.”

“Almost ten?” I squeak. “Hannah, what time did we get here?”

Hannah shrugs. “Like, just before nine, maybe?”

God, that weed must be really good if I’ve lost the concept of time. It felt like just ten minutes ago Hannah and I were taking the first hits from the blunt. Maybe we just took awhile to smoke it, I don’t know. Maybe I should head home and get some sleep. Is it safe to drive while high? I don’t think it’s as dangerous as driving drunk, because I’m still aware of my surroundings, and my vision isn’t spinning.

“Why don’t I call you in the morning?” I ask Joshua. “I didn’t realize how late it is, I should probably head home.”

“Yeah, you should,” Hannah says. I know she’s not saying it harshly, because Hannah isn’t like that. She’s just agreeing with me. Joshua and I quickly say goodbye, and I feel terrible because it feels like Hannah and I didn’t actually get to hang out. But I say goodbye anyway, because it isn’t like she asked me to spend the night, and then I say goodbye to Michaela and their dog, driving myself back home with no problem.

I swear, the moment I am home and out of my clothes, I fall onto my bed, but I don’t even feel myself hitting the bed because I am already asleep.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of this is unedited because i've been writing this for hours now and it's nearly twelve in the morning.

Spending a night alone in my bed seems almost foreign. 

Like, I have become so used to sleeping with Joshua in the bed, or me being in Joshua's bed, that not having his body close to mine feels odd. 

Though, I don't actually have any trouble sleeping. It just feels strange to not have Joshua by my side. I end up curling myself into the fetal position to gain a stronger sense of warmth, because oddly enough, even though my blanket is very warm and big, Joshua's body is like a heater that lays in my bed and wraps itself around my body. 

I still don't get how Joshua can still use a blanket without setting it on fire. 

Joshua and I have only seen each other a few times this entire week because we have both been so busy with work, and yeah, even though I have seen him within the last twenty-four hours, I miss him and I'm dumb for it. He deserves his space, he probably doesn't miss me and is glad he's able to spend a night in bed without me there. 

My alarm doesn't go off on Saturdays, and I expect to be woken up naturally by my body or the sunlight seeping in from my blinds, but instead I am woken up by my phone buzzing, signaling that someone is calling me. I scramble to get it, startled and confused, and my back pops as I do. It feels great, and when I recognize the caller id as my littlest brother, I pop my back several more times until it won't anymore.

My voice is gravely when I first say, "Jay? What time is it?" so I clear my throat and rub my eyes, sitting up against the headboard. 

I am wearing practically nothing, which actually might have been the reason that I was cold last night, but I'm just going to rely on it being the lack of Joshua here. My chest tingles with goosebumps as the cold air hits my bare skin, and I quickly nestle back into my blanket. 

"Uh, like seven-thirty," Jay mumbles. This elicits a groan out of my body, and I really want Jay to just get what he has to say out so I can go back to bed. He could have just texted me or something so I could have seen it when I woke up, but no, he has to go and call me this early in the morning. "I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" I mutter, stretching my legs out. 

Jay and I do not talk very often, but not to the point where we don't like each other and avoid it, it's just that I'm literally ten years older than him and have matured much faster than he has. He is fifteen years old, and I am nearly twenty-five. We are on two entirely different levels. And besides, he's into entirely different things than I am. Girls, video games, being a teenage boy. 

"My first basketball game is today," Jay tells me. "I'd like it if you'd come."

Basketball season has already started? I remember being so excited for it to start, because then I would have an excuse to get away from home. But then there were the locker rooms, where I would be forced to change in front of a bunch of other girls and have people think I, too, was a girl. But I wasn't out to anyone, so how would they have known otherwise? I was captain of the girls varsity basketball team, and everyone loved me. But that's a thing of the past now, attached to my past identity and body. 

Would Jay be disappointed if I didn't go to his game? I haven't been to a single one of his games literally ever, so why is he asking me all of a sudden to go to one now? I don't really like going back to the high school if I can't help it, which is why the last time I went was for Maddy's graduation. I was able to hide in the crowd of people and not be recognized. My mom still works there as a teacher, and my dad still coaches the boys teams.

Would it be odd to bring Joshua? Having my family meet my boyfriend, who I haven't mentioned once, might be a little odd. If I just show up holding hands with Joshua and my family sees that, they're going to go nuts. Not in a bad way, obviously, but they'll bombard Joshua and I with questions until we're both physically tired of it.

That's the thing about my family. They're nice people, firm in their faith, and they're fully accepting of me, which they have made very clear, but sometimes they can be a bit much. They're too persistent, sometimes they need to just take a break and give me a moment to breathe.

Ultimately, it wouldn't do anyone any harm if I were to bring Joshua to the game, we would just have to endure talking to my family for two hours before escaping. Though, the thought of going back to my old high school makes my stomach churn slightly. What if I run into people I knew when I was still a student? I wasn't out in high school, so everyone knew me as Taylor.

They won't know who I am. I mean, there are still aspects of my body and face that are similar to those of what I had as a girl, but I do look a lot different because of the testosterone. My body weight has shifted, things have moved around, and I even have facial hair. My voice is also a lot deeper than before. I used to have an extremely feminine voice, and now I sound like a man. Because I am a man.

The chances of me running into students I had classes with are unlikely, but there are the teachers that have been working there for longer than I've been alive. What if people ask me who I am because they don't recognize me? What if they ask about Taylor? Can't I just say I'm Taylor's twin brother than spent high school studying abroad in Europe? That sounds pretty convincing.

"Tyler? You there?" Jay sounds a little worried, and his voice cracks. Puberty, I'm guessing.

I blink, shuffling under my blanket. I miss Joshua again. "Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking."

"So, will you come?" Jay sounds eager to know my answer, and someone is in the room with him, talking to another person. Or maybe it's a television, because the sound is slightly muffled coming from my cell phone.

I guess I have to, because if Jay is asking me to come after years of never asking me before, it must be important. I let out a shaky sigh, running my hands through my hair that I still need to tame.

"Yeah, I'll come," I breathe. "What time is the game?"

"Varsity boys start at twelve." There is some mumbling on the other end again, someone saying something to Jay. It's probably my mom. "Mom says hi, by the way. She can't wait to see you today."

Truth be told, I haven't seen my mom in awhile either. I'm terrible at making an effort to go see my family, though they live on the outskirts of the actual city, which isn't terribly far at all. I'm just lazy and sometimes it's just easier to stay at home in a small confinement.

"Tell her I said hi," I mumble back.

"Okay!" Jay chirps. He seems to be in a pretty good mood now, as opposed to the subtle awkwardness he posed at the beginning of the phone call. Is it because I agreed to going to his game? I didn't know he cared that much. "I'll see you then, Ty."

I swear he's about to hang up the phone, but I sit up, the cold air immediately hitting my body once again, and I blurt out: "Can I bring someone?" It slips out of me before I have time to stop it, and I immediately regret it, because I need to actually ask Joshua if he can or even wants to go to a high school basketball game before telling my family that he is going for sure.

"Sure," Jay says. "Who?"

I swallow audibly. "Just... Someone. I'll see you there." I hang up the phone then, because I am not going to tell my little brother over the phone that I have a boyfriend. 

I feel slightly bad for just hanging up on Jay so suddenly, but I know that he'll meet Joshua today, so it isn't that big of a deal. If Joshua can come, that is. I immediately click on his contact, but for the video calling option because I love his morning face. My face lights up the screen as it rings, and I notice how odd my face looks in the morning. My hair is sticking up in every direction, and my lips are swollen. I have always wondered why my lips get more swollen in the morning. My stubble is also out of control. I need to get rid of it desperately. 

Joshua answers after a few seconds, my face moving to the corner of the screen and Joshua taking up the rest. He's... in the shower? I can see his body from the waist up, the curve of the top of his butt just barely in the frame. “Hey,” he says, squirting a dollop of shampoo into his hand. How is his phone not getting destroyed?

“Why do you have your phone in the shower?” I groan, rubbing my eyes. He brings his hands to his hair and starts scrubbing in the shampoo, creating a soapy lather.

“It’s in a plastic bag,” he says. “I taped it to the wall.”

He looks really good. He always looks really good, especially in this state, water laying on his shoulders and chest and just his skin overall. I feel a little hot. I miss him, and I want him here right now with me, his skin on mine. I bet he smells amazing right now. I love smelling his hair, I just want to bury my face in his soft curls and breathe it in forever. God, I’m weird. What is up with me today?

Maybe it’s because Joshua and I really haven’t seen each other all that much this week. Yesterday, we didn’t even do anything, so that might be why I’m so hot right now. I really want him, I haven’t had him all that much. I know he said that the basis of our relationship shouldn't be solely sex, but still, now that I've gotten a taste, it's a little hard to stop. Maybe it's my new testosterone causing my sex drive to heighten. I know that can happen. Joshua is just too good. 

It sort of feels like I'm a vampire who has gotten its first taste of blood. Though, I'm not on a bloodthirsty rampage. I just want to have sex with my boyfriend, is that too much to ask?

Joshua obviously isn't in his own shower, because I've been in his shower, and this isn't it. It's probably the shower at his mom's house. "What are you up to?" Joshua asks, pulling the shower head off of its latch to rinse his hair, his arms naturally flexing in the process. God. 

"Just laying in bed," I mumble, pulling my blankets up a little further so that my chest is entirely covered. I bend my knees up so they make a tent with the blanket, spreading them open slightly. "Just woke up."

"Me too," Joshua says, squeezing his eyes shut as he continues to rinse his hair out. It falls over his forehead with white suds, running down his chest and obviously his legs and butt, but I can't see either of those. Just barely his butt, only the top curve of it. He has such a nice butt, I want to grab it and hold it in my hands, like, right now. "Jim peed on me in his sleep."

"Gross." I scrunch my noise up. "Jim is your mom's dog?"

Joshua nods in response, and takes a deep breath once his hair is completely void of shampoo. He puts the shower head back on its latch, turning it to the wall of the shower so it doesn't touch him, and then reaches for the conditioner. "Yeah, he's a golden retriever, but he's still pretty young and a little much for my mom to handle because she's always working, so I might be adopting him."

"Why would your mom get him in the first place if she's so busy?" I wonder. 

Joshua shrugs his shoulders. "He was a stray, her friend found him and gave him to her."

"That's sweet," I hum. Joshua nods, and as his conditioner is setting, he washes his body with a loofah. 

After a minute, Joshua says, "I'm still deciding on whether or not to take him. They don't allow dogs in my apartment, and even if I did, he's a big dog, and he's going to get even bigger, so an apartment wouldn't be too good for him."

Slowly, the warm, buzzing feeling between my legs is starting to go away, probably because I'm more focused on talking to Joshua rather than thinking about having sex with him. I really need to ask him about Jay's game today. "What are you going to do?" I ask, and my eyes feel heavy, which means I'll probably fall asleep again. Joshua's voice is so calming, and with the water mixed in, it seems so serene. 

"I'm thinking of getting my own place." Joshua sniffs. "Somewhere with a backyard, maybe. I don't know, I don't think I'm ready to buy a house yet."

I change the subject after that, because Joshua seems a little distressed just talking about this. I turn so that I'm on my side, curling up with my legs close to my chest. "Are you busy today?" I ask. Joshua shakes his head, so I continue, "My little brother has his first basketball game of the season and he wanted me to come. Do you maybe want to go? All of my family is going to be there, probably."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, but he's wearing a playful smirk. "You want me to meet your family?"

"Hey, I've already met your sister," I shoot back playfully. "And we weren't even dating then." 

Joshua nods in acknowledgement, and begins rising the conditioner out of his hair because it has been setting for over a minute now. I watch as he washes it out, my eyes still heavy, and almost doze off, but when Joshua says, "Should I hang up so you can sleep?" I jolt awake. 

Slowly, I sit up, rubbing my eyes, hunched over too. Only my shoulders and up can be seen in the camera frame. "No, no, don't hang up," I groan. "I'm getting up now, don't worry." I throw my blanket off of my body, and nothing but my underwear covers me, my chest completely exposed to the cold air. Oh, how nice Joshua's body would feel pressed up against mine right now. 

"What time is the game?" Joshua asks. The shower is off by now and Joshua has set his phone down against the counter, I'm assuming, and he's not even bothering to towel himself off as he begins pulling on a pair of boxers. He's so odd, never drying off after he showers. What a weirdo. 

"Twelve, I think." I stand up, popping my neck, and because I showered last night after work, I leave the phone on the bed as I dig for a pair of clean underwear and socks in the top drawer of my dresser. "You wanna come over before?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of spending the night." Joshua pulls on a sweater and I am no longer able to see his freckles, but it's okay. He looks so good with sweaters. "We haven't... You know. Not in awhile."

"I'm so glad I'm not the only one thinking that," I laugh. "We've hardly seen each other this week."

"I know, it should be a crime," Joshua says. "I'll head over as soon as my mom gets back. She should be home within an hour."

We hang up after that, and I get dressed and ready for the day, sort of wishing I'm back in bed as I'm tidying up the apartment. 

...

The air of my old high school feels almost too familiar, like the moment I step inside the doors I used to every single morning for four years, I am hit with a sense of nostalgia. But nostalgia isn't the word, because I absolutely hated high school. 

The halls are still the same. Everything is the same, and I know just down the hall, by the principal's office, sits the trophy case with my picture in it - where I'm still a girl. I wish they would take it down, but at the same time, it sort of acts as a memoir. Like at a funeral service for who I once was, filled with my accomplishments so people can reminisce about that past me. Taylor. 

I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, 'cause she's dead.

"The gym is this way," I tell Joshua, and the halls are empty, probably because varsity girls have been playing for awhile already. Once their game is over, varsity boys play, and that is when Jay comes in. I wonder if he's starting lineup this game. Right outside of the gym, I stop, taking Joshua's hands in mine. He looks slightly confused. 

"My family might ask a lot of questions," I say. "Like, about us. Or you. I don't know if they're going to ask if you're trans or not, but-"

Joshua shushes me. "Hey, it's alright." He's smiling widely, and my heart hurts. "I can handle a few questions." And then I pull him inside of the gym, where the bleachers hand been filled on either side of the gym, and people are cheering. My heart is pounding, like it might be lodged in my throat trying to escape, but Joshua hooks his pointer finger into one of my back belt loops, and I feel a little safer. I haven't been here in years, but it still feels like I can do suicides in his gym with my eyes closed. 

I immediately spot my mom and dad, and sitting with them are Maddy and her husband, and Zack and his fiancee. I wave to them, and my mom's face lights up for a second, waving to me. I'm sure she's pretty confused about Joshua, though, but Jay probably told her that I was bringing someone along, so it's not like she expected me to come alone. 

They are sitting several rows up, and my mom has her usual basket of snacks and drinks. She's always so prepared. She stands up to hug me, it's strong, probably because I've gone so long without seeing her, and she still smells the exact same. "Hi, Tyler," she says once I pull away. "God, we're so glad you could come."

"Me too," I say, but it's sort of a lie, because I hate this place, but I want to support my little brother even if I have never been to one of his games before. I hug my dad and sister and brother, then my brother in law and almost sister in law, and Joshua stands behind me awkwardly. 

Once all the hugs are done, I clear my throat, and Joshua steps up so that we're next to each other. I'm pretty sure we're blocking the views of several people, so I'm trying to be quick. "This is Joshua," I say to all of my family. "He's my boyfriend."

Yes, my family looks shocked, because wow! Tyler has a boyfriend, when was the last time he had a boyfriend? 

"Nice to meet you," Joshua says with his usual charming smile, shaking my father's hand and then my mother's. We sit down in the row below them, a food or so of space between us. The shock wears off quickly, but of course I was right and my mother asks Joshua, "How long have you two been dating?"

I don't know if I would count what we had going before we officiated things as dating, but Joshua steps in so I don't have to answer. "Over a month now," he says. I guess he counts it, so I will too. We're been officially boyfriends for less than a month, but we've been dating for a little over a month. That sounds accurate enough. My mom looks the slightest bit disappointed that I haven't told her yet.

"How did you meet?" Maddy chirps. 

This time, I speak. "He came into the restaurant," I mention. "We hit it off immediately." Definitely not going to tell them about how we fucked the day after we met. Definitely not. 

"Oh, that's so sweet," Tatum, Zack's fiancee, says. "You're so handsome, Joshua. You both are, gosh."

"Wrong brother to be hitting on," Zack laughs, and him saying brother sort of makes me feel a little giddy. They're used to it, it feels nice. The girls varsity game finishes quickly after that, and my family is still asking Joshua questions, but nothing too personal, and I'm assuming they think he's cis because they never once mention anything about either of us being trans. Or maybe they just don't bring it up because it's actually none of their business but Joshua and I's. 

Varsity boys begins filing out to do practice shots like they normally would back when I was still playing for the school, all the teams do it. Jay sees me and waves, a large smile present, and I wave back, and then he waves to Joshua even though the two of them have never met. 

...

By halftime, Jay's team is winning.

"Let me show you around," I whisper to Joshua, right next to his ear over the commotion. I pull him down and out of the gym, mentioning nothing to any of my family, and I pull him into the empty hallway. The concessions and bathrooms are both in the gym so nobody really needs to leave. 

When we get back in, I know I'm going to at least buy some M&Ms or something. Hopefully whoever is running the concessions isn't an old teacher I had. 

"What are we doing?" Joshua asks as I pull him down the hallway to the trophy case. I figured that maybe I should show him around so he can see a little bit about my life, even if it wasn't during my best place. There are much better things I'd like to show Joshua, but this is right now. 

I stop in front of my senior year locker. I still remember it, it's twenty-one, and I used to have Polaroid photos of my teammates and I. I wonder what they're doing now, if they're married or if they've graduated college and have successful jobs. "This was my old locker," I say, turning to Joshua. "For my senior year, at least."

"Funny," Joshua says. "Twenty-one is my favorite number." 

I smile, and he pulls my body to his, and then backs me up against my old locker. Dear person whoever currently uses this locker: I'm so sorry.

"You know," Joshua breathes, his eyes blown wide and warm and deep chocolate, "I've always wanted to do this. Like, make out against a locker."

"You're such a dork," I laugh, and yeah, we kiss, my arms around his neck sort of like in all of those high school movies and television shows. Maybe if Joshua was here with me in high school, things wouldn't have been so bad, because we could have been each other's solace - sort of like now, but more vulnerable, and before either of us had transitioned. Not that the present isn't full of vulnerability, we're just both in a better, healthier place, I think.

I don't know how long we're kissing for, but eventually someone is in the hallway, steps too quiet for either of us to notice until they clear their throat and I jump in surprise. Joshua pulls away immediately and we turn, and of course it has to be my old principal. Oh god. Please don't recognize me, please. 

"I'm sorry, you can't do that here," he says. Everyone calls him Mr. V because his last name is Spanish and no one can pronounce it correctly. He still looks the same after all these years, though his hair is a little grayer than the last time I saw it. He's been principal here for a long, long time. Since before I was a freshman, and that was ten entire years ago. I was fourteen when I started high school. 

"Oh, uh, sorry," I apologize, my face burning hot. Joshua is flustered too, I don't think either of us expected to have someone actually walk up to us. I guess that's what we get for making out in the middle of a high school hallway when you're two men in your mid twenties. Probably not the greatest idea, especially when my family is probably wondering where the hell we went. 

Mr. V starts at me oddly, searching my face as if a clue is going to pop up and tell him who I am. Oh my god. No, please no. "Do I know you?" he wonders, head tilting in confusion. 

I immediately shake my head. "No, sorry, you don't-"

And then it clicks. I can see it in his eyes, the way his mouth opens up slightly in realization. "Taylor Joseph?" he asks. "But you're-"

"I'm sorry, I'm not Taylor Joseph," I blurt out. Joshua looks confused for a second, but he seems to understand. How could this be possible? I look nothing like how I used to, at least not over my clothes. Under, yeah, there are things I still have that won't change, but my face looks nothing like how it used to, so how could Mr. V recognize me? I have a strong stubble, and short hair, and a deep voice. So how could I look anything like Taylor?

"You look so much like her," Mr. V breathes. "I haven't heard of her in years."

I feel like I'm going to choke. My throat feels so tight, I don't know what to do. I've never been recognized as Taylor, at least not for a long time. "I'm Taylor's twin brother," I manage to choke out, and Joshua looks so worried. "Tyler... Tyler Joseph."

"How come you never went here with Taylor and Zack?" Mr. V asks. His eyebrows knit together. This is where my Europe excuse comes in handy. 

"I studied in Europe during high school," I lie. And I could literally kiss Joshua again, right now, if it weren't for Mr. V being present, because he pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks at the blank screen, and then up to Mr. V and says, "Sorry, it looks like we have to get going. We have to pick up our dog from my mom's house."

He pulls me along without another word, past the gym full of people and then my family, and past a very confused Mr. V, out into the parking lot. As soon as we get back to his car, I collapse into the passenger seat. My head feels like it's spinning. 

Joshua doesn't get into his seat just yet, instead crouching at my side with the door still wide open. I sigh shakily into my hands, and I'm not really sure, but I think I might be on the verge of tears. This shouldn't have happened, I knew I shouldn't have come. I don't even know why Jay asked me to come in the first place. Maybe he just missed me, or maybe my entire family missed me. I wish that would make me feel better, but it doesn't.

Joshua holds my wrists delicately as I breathe in and out deeply, slowly. "Hey, it's okay," he whispers, and his breath comes out in dragon fire clouds. "We're out of there, it's alright."

"We should never have come," I whimper. "I knew something like this was going to happen. What is my family going to say when we don't come back?"

"You can just call them later and explain it to them," Joshua says. "It's not your fault, Tyler."

I sniffle, the tears that are no longer in my eyes but on my cheeks warm against my skin. It may have been a small encounter with just one person, and my lie probably worked, but still. I hated that. "I feel gross," I mumble, throwing my head back against the car seat headrest. Sort of like that band. 

Joshua frowns. "You don't get thick skin without getting burnt."

He's right. I look at him, eyes only slightly blurry, so I wipe them, and then he smiles warmly. "You want to go home, maybe?" I know he's referring to my place, and while I think he might just be using it in this context to apply to me, the thought of him thinking of it as his home too makes my stomach jump awkwardly. 

I nod. "Yeah, let's go."

And so we do, the radio soft in our ears through Joshua's speakers, the smell of weed faint but still there slightly. Joshua's scent is stronger, and I want to breathe it in forever.


	10. Ten

I believe it was at twelve years old when I realized what a piece of shit holiday Thanksgiving is. In elementary school they taught you all about Thanksgiving and how it's a great holiday filled with peace joy, but they were wrong. They were stupid and dumb and I look back on it now with regret, because why would I ever believe such things? I was so vulnerable. 

Those dumb English people were terrible. We shouldn't have a holiday that celebrates genocide. It isn't fucking fair. 

But still, every year, I'm forced to Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house, because where else would I have it? By myself, except with no turkey and actually a hot pocket? I may be a sad adult living on my own, but I'm not that sad. 

I'm stuck pulling into the driveway of the house I grew up in, and I wish my car was still fucking broken so I would have an excuse not to go. That probably wouldn't even work, though, because then my brother or sister would come pick me up. Zack, because Jay is still too young to drive. 

My parents have already put their Christmas tree up, I can see it through the window, which reminds me that my birthday is coming up in literally three days. I almost feel sick, because it's hard to imagine that I'm actually going to be twenty-five. It is also hard to image that I've made it this far. 

As a teenager, I went through some shit. I never really thought I would make it to where I am, though I'm not rich or famous or anything, I'm still in a financially stable place and I no longer actually want to die. I'm happy, I'm content, and the only thing I would ask for now is probably top surgery. 

Which I've still been thinking a lot of. I know my chest really isn't that big, I'm at an A cup, but they still bother me. I sort of feel bad because I want to get top surgery but I haven't done any research yet, and haven't reached out to any doctors about it either. Maybe I can ask Joshua if I could talk to his doctor, since he recently did surgery on Joshua. 

The front door is open, so I walk right in, several bottles of wine and then a couple of bottles of sparkling cider for Jay and Maddy and Maddy's husband in my arms. Maddy is still underage, only nineteen, but she's already married to her husband because they were apparently so in love in high school that they couldn't wait any longer. The wedding ceremony was beautiful and I might have jokingly threatened that I would kill Will if he ever hurt Maddy. Because, you know, I'm the oldest brother, I have to act tough or whatever.

I toe my shoes off because my mom will literally slit my throat if I walk anywhere in the house with shoes, and then walk into the kitchen, where Maddy and my mom are cooking. Maddy is putting a pie in the fridge, one I can't see, so I really hope it's chocolate, and my mom is making buns. 

"Hi, Tyler!" mom says. I set the drinks down on the table, they should be put in the fridge or at least out onto the patio in the backyard so they are cold for dinner. They were sitting on my counter, not in the fridge like they should have been. Oops. 

"Hi, mom," I say, giving her a tight hug, and she smells irrevocably like pumpkins. So one of the pies must be pumpkin, then. "I brought three bottles and then a couple for Maddy, Jay, and Will to share. Is that okay?"

"It's perfect," mom says, and she smiles that same motherly smile, wiping her hands on her apron. Maddy's husband is also her age. They went to every school dance with each other ever since their freshman year, and they have been inseparable since, so I'm very glad they are married. They were probably made for each other. "Your father and Zack went to go grab a couple more chairs from the shed in the backyard."

"Where are Will and Jay?"

"Upstairs playing video games," Maddy groans, rolling her eyes. Again, I don't get how some men or boys or whatever can enjoy video games so much. I never got into them, I just don't understand how they can be entertaining. There are so many better things to do, like kissing Joshua or going to work or kissing Joshua some more. 

Zack and my dad pull open the back door, which is sliding glass, each holding two chairs. I think with all of us together, including Tatum and will, we need eight chairs. There are already four at the dining table. 

"Hey, Ty," dad says, passing me to set the chairs down. Zack nods in my direction, another thing I don't understand about some men. Why do they always nod in the direction of other men to acknowledge their presence? Just say hi? It really isn't that hard. 

I kind of wish I were with Joshua. But I haven't met any of his family besides his sister, who is probably due for her baby any day now, so it would probably be insanely awkward to have Thanksgiving with them. Though, I've sort of met his mom. I mean, I served her at the restaurant, but I never introduced myself. Why would I? I didn't think I would go as far as to be Joshua's boyfriend after that. 

I end up helping with dinner because I really don't want to play video games, and of course we all say what we're thankful for, so I make up some bullshit about my family and being able to be myself and secure in my identity, which is half true. I am thankful to be in a healthy place with both my body and my mind. And I guess maybe I'm thankful for my family. They're alright.

I take a sip of my wine, and it burns when it goes down my throat, but I like it. It's a soft burn, reminding me that I'm here and I exist and possibly also that I'm legal to drink. I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of having this liberty, even if I've had it for years now. "Tyler," my mom starts, "how is Joshua?" I look up from my glass, an eyebrow raised. Of course they're going to ask questions about him, I should have known. 

"He's fine," I mutter. 

"What does he do for work?" My dad asks. Why should that matter?

I clear my throat, and then take another sip of wine. I sort of want to get drunk so that I don't have to comprehend any of these questions. I just want to go home and sleep, but then again, if I get drunk, I'll be stuck here for the night because I won't be able to drive. "He manages at the Guitar Center downtown," I say. Another sip of wine, I down the rest of the glass. This is only my first, but it probably won't be my last by the end of the night. 

My dad hums in response, and I can't tell whether or not he's satisfied with my answer. It doesn't matter, though, because Joshua doesn't need his validation. The air is still, stagnant almost, and the only sounds are from the clinking of cutlery against my mom's nice expensive holiday dishes. I'm full, I finished off my plate, but there's still desert. Maybe I'll pass, I don't know. 

"Is Joshua trans?" my mom asks out of nowhere, and if I still had wine in my glass I would probably be choking on it right now. But I don't have any wine, so spit will have to suffice. My collar feels a little too tight. 

"What kind of question is that?" I choke out, and I probably look crazy right now. 

"I just wanted to know," my mom mumbles. "I just want you two being careful. I don't want you getting pregnant, Tyler."

I immediately scowl. Joshua being trans is none of her business, she has absolutely no right to know that. No fucking right. And she's worried that I might get pregnant if Joshua is cis? I can't even get pregnant, my testosterone has stopped my period so I couldn't possibly get pregnant even if Joshua were cis. 

"I can't fucking get pregnant," I seethe, and if I used this tone of voice or any curse words as a teenager I would get grounded for the rest of my life. I would have my phone taken away, my ass beat with a wooden spoon, and I wouldn't see the light of day ever again. Probably would have had my mouth washed out with soap. God, that would be terrible. 

My mom looks taken aback. Good. My entire family is staring at my, eyes wide. 

"Don't speak to your mother that way," my dad warns. 

"You have no right knowing that kind of stuff about Joshua and I's relationship," I say, only getting madder. God, I knew something terrible would happen. This is another reason as to why I despise Thanksgiving. Besides all of the murder and hypocrisy, I'm always bombarded with questions about my life that always strike the wrong chord. Sometimes people just need to shut the hell up. "I can't even get pregnant," I say again. "I don't get my period anymore. And you also have no right to know whether Joshua is trans or not. That's none of your business." I am not telling my mom about the time I got my period on Halloween, that was traumatizing. 

Everyone is still staring at me in awe, as if they didn't know I was on testosterone or something. I have stubble. I literally have facial hair. Of course I'm on testosterone. And my voice is a hell of a lot deeper than it used to be. 

"I'm sorry," my mom mumbles. I almost feel sorry too, but I think I might be a little too angry to recognize any other feelings at the moment. I sigh loudly, scooting my chair in a little closer to the table. Jay is sitting beside me, but he is silent, pushing around his leftover mashed potatoes with his spoon. I'm probably acting childish, but I'm pissed off, so I just sit and stare at my hands while the tension in the air sits, sort of like an overweight dog on the bed it had as a puppy. It's suffocating. 

I really don't want to be here any longer than I have to, and dinner is already done, so I might just go home. Usually, I would help with the dishes and putting things away in the fridge, but I don't know if I have the patience to stay here any longer. 

My phone rings on the counter, loud and interrupting. Normally, I would just silence it if it started ringing and call the person back later, but everyone seems almost relieved, so I stand up and push my chair out, grabbing my phone and stepping out into the backyard. Over the ringing, I swear I can hear my family sigh in relief. 

It's Joshua, so I sit down on one of the patio chairs, clicking the green answer button. It's cold outside, I only have a sweater on. "Hey," I mumble, laying my head down in my arms. He's on speakerphone. The tip of my nose just barely presses into the cold surface of the patio table. 

"Hey," Joshua breathes. "How are you?"

"Not great," I say. "My family is a little intense and I'm pissed off. I don't want to talk about it."

Joshua hums in response. "I'm sorry to hear that," he starts. "Are you guys done eating dinner?"

I almost nod, but I merely hum in acknowledgement, and Joshua is shuffling on the other end. I can hear a door unlocking and opening, the service is really good and I can also hear his quiet breathing. He turns on the shower, which means he's probably back at his place and not his parents'. "Want to come over?" he asks. "I miss you." He's probably taking his clothes off right now, unless he was already naked. Brendon probably isn't in the apartment, and I wouldn't be surprised if Joshua walked around naked when Brendon isn't there. 

"Yeah," I breathe. My breath billows out in clouds. It should be snowing soon, or at least I hope it will. I love the snow, it's so much fun to watch. The cold air feels a lot better than inside with my family. I don't hate them, I'm just irritated right now. Not at all of them, just my mom and probably my dad, I don't know. 

I turn and look back inside through the window, and they're cleaning the table up. I should probably go back in and help, maybe stay for desert or whatever, before leaving for Joshua's. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

After hanging up, I slip through the door silently, but everyone still notices me. There's a moment of awkward tension before everyone goes back to what they're doing. I hate it, I hate how they look at me like they're afraid I'm going to blow up or something. I look at my mom, and she's dishing up the pie. Normally, we wait a little bit before having pie after dinner because all of us are so full. 

Guilt starts to set in, because she looks hunched, almost, and sad, with her hair falling in her face. She works too hard, I shouldn't have yelled at her, even if what she said or assumed wasn't right. Everyone makes mistakes, what I said out of anger was a mistake. I trudge towards her, stopping at her side, and she glances up at me slowly. "Mom, I'm sorry for yelling," I say meekly. She sniffs, a silent indication for me to keep going. "I shouldn't have overreacted so much."

My mom stops slicing the pie and turns to look at me. I'm several inches taller than her. 

She lets out a shaky sigh. "I'm sorry too," she says. "I know I ask too many questions... I'm just trying to look out for you, Tyler. I'm sorry." She clears her throat before continuing. I can tell everyone else is trying not to listen in, scurrying around to have everything put away before leaving the kitchen. I guess they want us to have our privacy. This conversation won't last long, I hope. "Joshua's identity is none of my business, and neither is your relationship. Perhaps my motherly instincts just got too much of me."

I laugh quietly, playing with my hands. "It's okay, mom." At first, I assumed Joshua was cis too. So I guess I can't get entirely mad at my mom because I seriously had no idea either at first, and was pretty scared that he was going to be a huge asshole cis man or whatever. Nothing against cis men, but I'm so incredibly glad I was wrong. 

It looks like my mom is crying, but even if she is, she quickly wipes her eyes, and then engulfs me in a giant motherly hug. I haven't had one of these in a long time. Because I'm taller than her, I rest my chin on her shoulder and close my eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Tyler," she whispers. "You've come so far in life, I can't wait to see where you go next."

When she pulls away, she immediately wipes her eyes again, and to change the subject, says, "Now let's eat this pie. I know you've been eyeing it this entire time."

...

Joshua opens the door almost the second I knock on it, and I almost jump back in surprise, and he almost laughs. He's wearing sweatpants and a pullover sweater, the neckline slightly wider than normal necklines, so I am able to get a little peek of his freckled collarbone that I've come so dearly to admire. 

"God, you scared me," I breathe as he pulls me inside, and I toe off my shoes, and then hang my jacket on the coat rack. The apartment is silent besides us. "Where's Brendon?"

"Having dinner with Sarah and Dallon," Joshua tells me. "He's sleeping over afterwards, so... We have the apartment to ourselves."

I raise an eyebrow as he shuts the door, leaning against the wall with a goofy smile, his arms crossed. My heart feels so full, I can hear it pounding against my chest wildly. Just the sight of Joshua makes every inch of my body weak. We would have at it right now, probably with the door open because it's just us, or somewhere that isn't the bedroom, but I think I might be too full to do anything but lay around right now. It feels like I've gained a few pounds because I ate so much. 

I want to change into something more comfortable, because I'm still wearing my jeans, so Joshua pulls me into the bedroom and I pull on a pair of his other sweatpants. "I'm so full," I groan as we fall onto the bed, and he faces me with that same goofy smile, laying on one of his arms, the other stretched above his head. 

"Me too, my mom made so much food."

I close my eyes. I'm so warm, so calm, Joshua's bed is incredibly comfortable. I scoot myself closer even with my eyes closed, and Joshua begins pushing against me too. I laugh as he tries rolling on top of me, squeaking out, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get comfortable," he lies. "I'm pretty comfortable right here."

His stomach is against my back, his entire body weight against mine, but it isn't suffocating. I breathe in, and yeah, it's slightly harder with Joshua on top of me, but it's fine. He digs his arms under my stomach, his nose pressed into the back of my neck, where my hair curls slightly because I've still forgotten to shave it and I really need to and should. Maybe Joshua will shave it for me tonight. 

"Your hair smells like chocolate," he breathes out, and it splays out against my skin, sending goosebumps to every inch of my body. I like it. 

We lay like that for several minutes, and I swear I could fall asleep because Joshua laying on top of me is actually quite comfortable, and I don't know why. Eventually, though, he rolls us over so that I'm laying on him, and this time I turn over so that our skin pressed against one another and my chest resting by his hips, his legs wrapped loosely around my waist. 

I lazily push his sweater up to expose his stomach, running circles with my pointer finger around his belly button and then up and down the trail of hair leading to what's underneath all of these clothes. He hums contently, throwing his arms over his face with a yawn. 

My mind crosses the conversation I had with my mom. I bury my face in Joshua's stomach, pressing a chaste kiss to the soft skin. I know I said I didn't want to talk about it, but I think maybe just mentioning the topic might do me some good. Give me clarification, at least. "Would you be alright if my family ever knew you're trans?" I mumble. Joshua lifts his head up and meets my eyes. 

"You know I'm out," he says softly. 

I purse my lips, resting my chin on his belly button. Guess I'm going to talk about it, then. "I know, it's just that my mom asked if you were trans and then got all freaked out about me potentially getting pregnant if you were cis." Joshua passes incredibly well. 

Joshua frowns. "What did you tell her?"

I frown this time. "I didn't tell her anything other than the fact that I can't get pregnant and that it's none of her business anyway." 

Joshua hums, and scoots up so that he's sitting more upright against all of his pillows, and he sheds his sweater so that he has no shirt on. I don't know why, but I am in no way complaining. "It's okay if you tell them," he says. "I don't mind. Just let me know when you do."

Neither of us mention it after that, and I end up on my back, my shirt off and then my binder too, revealing my naked chest. Joshua kisses me all over, every part of me he can see and reach, and by the end of it, we're both so tired that he falls asleep with his head against my chest and his boxers still around his ankles, surely something we'll wake up to confusedly. 

The blanket isn't over either of us because the bed is still made, but I'm so, so warm.


	11. Eleven

I wake up the morning of my twenty-fifth birthday feeling not entirely great. 

I open my eyes and I'm facing the ceiling, Joshua fast asleep next to me, and my head is pounding. I don't necessarily feel sick, no, I feel fine physically. 

I haven't dreamed in a long time. Of course, everyone dreams, but I don't really remember my dreams anymore. Not for years, and usually because I can't remember, I'm facing a blank sleep, nothing serious. Just sleep is all that it is. Even with Joshua in all his entirety, I don't remember my dreams, and usually I want to remember them so I can have any idea of what goes up there when I sleep. But not last night. I don't want to remember that.

It was really vivid, and I swear I could almost smell it, it was that real. 

I was standing in front of the two doors, one for the men's restroom and one for the women's restroom. The little man and woman symbols on either of the doors that everyone uses, they're so basic, on every bathroom door. There was a wall behind me, and I was almost backed up against it, only a few inches in front of it. I didn't know which one to use. 

I think in the dream I was able to register that this happened before, because yeah, it did, and I know sometimes in dreams, memories appear, sometimes becoming the entire dream itself. At first, I was the only one in the hallway, but then I wasn't anymore, because that guy was there, coming out of the men's bathroom. He smirked when he saw me. 

And then he asked me what I was doing. My response was high pitched, still my old voice before testosterone, and even my hair was long. I was wearing baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. I used to wear a lot of baggy clothes to hide my figure and seem more masculine, even before I realized I was trans. Before I knew, I just assumed I didn't like my body because of my weight. I think this part might have been several days before I sat in the bathroom and shaved off all of my hair when my mom wasn't home. 

I was pushed into the wall, and I could almost feel my lungs smack against my rib cage, and somehow this guy knew. He fucking knew and he started screaming slurs in my face like tranny and faggot. How the hell could he have known? I had barely known myself, I was out to no one. 

I wanted to fight back, but I couldn't. He was beating up the star of the girls' varsity basketball team, but he didn't give a shit. He didn't care that he was pushing a girl into the wall and calling her tranny and faggot.

Now, I am in no way a supporter of gender roles, so if a girl starts beating up a guy for no reason then he has every right to hit her back and vice versa, but I didn't do anything to provoke him, so he shouldn't have fucking done that.

He knew I was trans, even when I had told no one but myself, all those little times in front of the mirror wondering why I wasn't comfortable.

To this day, I still wonder how he ever found out. The "fight" - if that is even the right word to call it - never lasted long enough for me to find out, because one of my teammates came out of her classroom to quickly run to the bathroom, and she saw me get punched in the fucking face and then she punched him in the face.

He was expelled after that, my teammate and I were both suspended. 

Neither of us did anything wrong, she was only protecting me and getting that asshole away from me, and I was the victim, but we both got suspended. We were never kicked off the team, but sometimes during practice or during games, we'd share a glance that made me feel oddly uneasy. 

I know she never heard those terrible things that guy was saying to me. But, for some reason, I was always scared that she did, and that she would ask or confront me about it. Or maybe tell other people about it. Though, she never did. 

I received nothing but praise from my teammates after that. I got hugs, flowers, good words my way. People that weren't even on my team were telling me about how glad they were that guy got expelled, and then they would tell me how brave I was. I don't get it, I was never brave, I went home after that and cried so hard that I threw up. 

I had a black eye for a week after that, and a split lip, all because of that fucking asshole. I don't remember his name, I'm glad I don't. 

I'm surprised that when I wake up I'm not sweating or kicking an thrashing or even crying. My eyes simply open and I'm on my back. I'm so confused because why would that memory suddenly pop up out of nowhere after years of having forgotten about it?

I know that sometimes things you say or hear or witness throughout the day or whenever can come back in your dreams, so maybe I had the dream because of what I said to my mom. 

I swallow thickly, turning over in bed so that my back is facing Joshua's bare one. I stare at the dark wall, because my head is still pounding and my heart is racing. It probably was because of what I said that made the memory surface after so many years. Cis people asking about a trans person's identity. I was only a junior in high school, and I had told no one about me being trans yet, and I really didn't plan on it, but somehow that guy found out. 

My mom thought I got beat up because that guy was trying to take advantage of me. That's what everyone at the school thought. I couldn't just tell them I was trans. I didn't even make up the rumor about it being because he was trying to take advantage of me. I was a girl, he was a guy 'coming onto me,' so people could only assume.

Thinking about my mom now, I feel even more uneasy. I really overreacted. I had every right to be confused, but I think getting upset like I did was probably not a good idea. I couldn't help myself at the time, I was just so focused on my mom asking that one question that honestly didn't even mean all that much that I blew up. 

It could have been the overall stress from Thanksgiving that set me off too. I hate the holiday, so I was already in a bit of a bad mood even when I got to my parents' house, and when my mom asked if Joshua is trans, I lost it. Sure, if may not actually be any of her business, but I get where she was coming at with the whole pregnancy thing. 

She was just being concerned for me, and at the time, I failed to recognize that. I was being an idiot, too over-protective of my boyfriend and myself. She was being a mom, looking out for her son. Even if it was just a misunderstanding, I never told her before that I couldn't get pregnant because I always just assumed that she already knew.

Joshua turns over in bed. "Are you crying?" he croaks in his morning voice. It's still dark outside, not even six in the morning yet. 

I didn't even realize I was crying, but I sniffle once I do, my nose a little clogged. "I don't know," I mumble, and Joshua reaches and turns on the lamp on his side of the bed, flooding the room with light.

He scoots over to me then, wrapping an arm around my waist with a yawn. "What's wrong?" His lips move against the back of my neck. He's warm, even without a shirt. He never sleeps in a shirt, I wish I was comfortable sleeping without a shirt. Only after sex do I ever. 

"Just a bad dream," I whisper, wiping my eyes with the heel of my palm. My tears smear against my cheeks and my skin feels sticky, but they just keep coming. I'm a silent crier as of right now, I'm not sobbing, but my throat aches. You know when you're a little kid, and you're trying to fight back tears that are threatening to fall, and your throat just aches so badly. 

"What was it about?" Joshua's lips move against my skin once again. I turn around so that I'm facing him, and his eyes are barely open. His lips are puffier than normal, something that also happens to me when I wake up from sleeping through the night. 

I purse my lips, wiping my eyes again. My vision is slightly blurry. "When I was in high school, right after I discovered I was trans, I got beaten up by some asshole who somehow knew about me. I hadn't even told anyone else, not even my mom. It was my secret."

Joshua's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "And this guy just beat you up out of nowhere?"

I nod stiffly. "I was by the bathrooms, and I think I was conflicted on which one to use, and he comes out of the men's bathroom and just fucking decks me." I take a deep, shaky breath. "He was calling me tranny and faggot like he was inside of my head and knew everything that was going on with me."

Joshua frowns. "That's terrible," he says, thumbing at my teary cheeks, wiping them, smudging them against my skin further. "How did he find out?"

I shrug my shoulders. "To this day, I still don't know."

When I think about it, that day was probably when I started becoming so hostile towards cis people. I know I tell myself I have no problem with them, and I'd like to think so, but there's always the underlying fear that something terrible is going to happen. That they're going to find out I'm trans and not cis and fucking beat me to a pulp for it. If it happened once, it could possibly happen again.

I was scared of Joshua at first, scared that he was cis because my experiences with cis men aren't the greatest. There are a lot of great cis men, and some mediocre ones, but there are also the bad ones. 

I just don't want anything like that ever happening again. I know I can't just be hostile and shut myself off from every single cis man, but I can't help myself from being cautious. 

It's quiet for a little bit, and I close my eyes, assuming Joshua has gone back to bed, but he snuggles his head under my chin and says, "Happy birthday, by the way."

I literally almost forgot. I know I thought about it as soon as I woke up, but then my dream overtook all of my thoughts. "Thank you," I mumble. "We're the same age now."

"Still older," Joshua hums. His eyelashes flutter against my neck and it tickles. He has long eyelashes, but they don't exactly curl up, instead going straight out. "You should let me make you something for breakfast."

I look at the clock. It has finally passed six in the morning, but it's a Sunday now, so I don't have to work and neither does Joshua. Guitar Center isn't open on Sundays, I don't think. "Too early," I tell him, closing my eyes again. "How about in a couple of hours?"

"Hmm, then I can give you your presents."

I play with Joshua's hair, and I'm so warm now, probably because he is. He's much better than any blanket. "You didn't have to get me anything."

He only wraps himself around me tighter, and then pulls my body on top of his. "Shut up and go back to sleep, birthday boy."

...

My head is level with Joshua's stomach. He's shirtless, I can see every inch of him from the waist up, and I'm shirtless too. My brand new binder is drying over the heater. Joshua's reasoning for getting me a new one was that my old one was getting a little dingy. 

He was right, it was getting a little old because I've had it for awhile.

My shoulders are covered with a towel, one that I'll have to wash once Joshua is done. Both of us just got out of the shower, Joshua is wearing nice black pants that he ran back to his apartment to get. He also grabbed a nice black button up shirt, which makes me think he might be taking me somewhere nice for my birthday. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, holding the electrical razor in his left hand, the plug dancing slowly in the air beside my face. 

"I've been meaning to do this for awhile," I tell him, looking up to meet his freshly shaven face. I shaved mine with the new shaving kit he also bought me. It's a really nice one, a straight razor instead of the crappy ones I buy from the drug store.

My hair really is getting a little out of control, flipping up and curling at the ends because I've been neglecting it. "Okay, here we go," Joshua breathes, and turns the razor on, nervous as if he's the one whose head is about to be shaved clean. I bet he would look really good with a shaved head, but I absolutely adore his curls as they are. 

He shaves off a line of my hair, and catches it before it falls, dropping it into the trash next to the toilet where I am currently sitting, the seat closed. "Well, there's no going back now." I smile widely, and close my eyes, because the feeling of the buzzing razor against my head is nearly therapeutic, sort of like Joshua is combing his hands through my hair and scratching at my scalp. That's the best feeling.

It doesn't take very long, less than ten minutes, and when I'm done, my head feels cold. "You look really good," Joshua comments, pulling the razor plug out of the wall as I run my hands over my head in the mirror. 

"Thank you," I hum when Joshua presses a feather-light kiss to my shoulder. The towel is still covering up my chest, and I follow Joshua out of the bathroom. My binder is still a little wet, so I let it sit. 

Joshua is tucking in his shirt now, and I feel bad for not being ready for my own birthday dinner. "Where are you even taking me?" I ask, leaning against the door frame. Joshua smooths out his shirt from under his pants, making sure there are no wrinkles or bunches in the fabric. He grins, running a hand through his dark curls, and my stomach twangs. 

"To a restaurant," is all he says, and he won't even tell me until we're there. I've never heard of it before, it's on the other side of town - the nicer, high-end side where a lot of the businesses have settled. The big ones with giant buildings. Joshua and I live in the more suburban area of Columbus, though still in the city. 

"Sarah works here," Joshua says, opening the door for me. I can hear the quiet chatter of customers sitting at their table. There are several couples waiting for a table, it seems, all of them dressed fairly nicely. Not insanely formal, more of a causal formal like you would use to refer to homecoming. 

Joshua's hand is in my back pocket as we walk up to the front clerk or whatever the hell they're called, and he says, "Reservation for Dun."

That makes me feel oddly giddy. I don't know why, maybe as if he's referring to both of us being Dun's, sharing a last name sort of like we're married. But I'm definitely getting too far ahead of myself. It would be odd to say 'reservation for Dun and Joseph.' Usually the reservation is only under the last name of the person who made it. We don't take reservations at the restaurant where I work because it's not formal whatsoever. Just a normal, homey feeling restaurant. 

The man looks through a book and then back at Joshua with a soft smile. "Your table is ready to go," he tells us, and then we follow him through tables and people to get to it.

On the way there, I grab Joshua's arm, both of us still walking, and whisper, "Why did we get a table so quickly if those people are waiting for theirs?"

"Sarah reserved us a table hours ago," he whispers back. 

It's in a secluded area, a small round booth, and a tablecloth covers the table. The other tables around it, though there aren't that many, have people filling them. They're quiet, though, their voices hushed, as if this area is sacred grounds and anyone who speaks too loudly will surely be damned.

I sit down across from Joshua. He has his fingers knitted together, resting under his chin, and he's smiling. The waiter sets down our menus and excuses himself. "What are you doing?" I ask quietly, my eyes on his. The lights are a little dim, and Joshua's hair creates a shadow against his forehead. He would look really good with dyed hair. But again, his hair is also perfect as it is. 

"Just thinking," he says. 

Sarah is our waitress, she's very quick to get our food and she even brings me out a free slice of birthday cake, a singular candle already lit up stuck on it. "Make a wish," Joshua tells me. 

I stare at the candle. What is there to wish for? I'm sitting across a table from a literal god, one I have the privilege of calling my boyfriend, who I get to sleep with and kiss and just touch whenever. I'm in a financially stable place with my own apartment and a well paying job. So what could I really wish for? I'm happy, I have everything I need. Well, not top surgery, but I still haven't put much thought into that either because I've been a little lazy about it. 

So I wish for everything to continue this way. For everything to stay the same, happy, in place. I like change to a certain point, but I don't want this to change at all. I'm fine with where things are. 

I close my eyes and blow out the candle, and Joshua claps quietly, his contagious smile there, now I'm smiling, and he takes my hand in his. "Happy birthday, Ty," he says. Then he pauses, like he has something else to say, pursing his lips in thought, but then he doesn't actually say anything else. 

Joshua pays, and I'm really full, and the food was amazing. It was very quick because Sarah made sure to bring us our food as soon as possible. 

Joshua comes back to my apartment again afterwards. We both have work tomorrow, but it isn't like we're incapable of driving even after spending the night with each other. Joshua's apartment isn't far, he can easily drive back there to get ready and shower or whatever. 

"That was really good," I comment, setting my wallet and phone down on the kitchen counter. Joshua hums in agreement, kicking off his shoes. He breathes a sigh of relief, probably because the shoes were too tight, and pops his back. 

It isn't even nine p.m. yet, but we quickly find ourselves in bed, already wearing our pajamas. Joshua has an overnight bag from yesterday too, and I'm starting to think that he should maybe just leave some stuff here to have for whenever he's over. My stomach flutters at the thought of him having a toothbrush here, a couple of changes of clothes, and eventually, maybe even a permanent spot next to me in bed. 

But I can't get too far ahead of myself. We haven't even been boyfriends for an entire month yet. Seeing each other for more than a month, yes, but official for less than that. 

I watch his face across from mine. Neither of us even say anything, merely watching each other's eyes, his brown and warm and unforgiving. I could get lost in them. They're like the color of chocolate, sweet and addicting. 

"You're so handsome," he whispers. 

I can feel my cheeks heat up as I scoot closer to him.

Something I've always hated about having breasts was never being able to lay down comfortably with them. They're in the way, and they squish together under the weight of my arms when I'm trying to lay down or sleep. 

Joshua is quick to fall asleep. I swear, he could probably fall asleep with the lights on and music blasting at full volume, he's that compatible. His mouth hangs open slightly, his eyelashes brushing up against his cheekbones, his hair wild still. He looks peaceful and warm. 

I think I might be able to look at him forever. 

I feel giddy, like my entire body is shaking with quiet excitement, but I'm not really sure what I'm excited for. I like it when I'm still awake and he's fallen asleep before me, because he is so beautiful yet so unaware of it. Just watching him has me feeling this way. It's a new feeling, I don't think I've ever experienced it before when I'm doing so much as just staring at someone. 

But maybe something is different between Joshua and I. Something I'm not entirely sure of yet, but something I'm willing to dive face first into if it means Joshua will be there. 

I fall asleep not too long after Joshua, my stomach not just full of food, but of butterflies too.


	12. Twelve

I end up having to close up the restaurant because my boss has to catch a flight to visit her family in California. There was hardly even any business today - Christmas is soon approaching, meaning a lot of places are closing down until after the new year. This includes the restaurant where I work, so I don't have to work again until early January. 

Which sort of scares me, because I won't be earning any money, but I still have money to spare, so not working for a week and a half won't kill me. January second is when I start again, I'll be fine until then. 

I feel odd having the keys to the restaurant, because only a few times before have I ever, but they aren't the only set of keys, so I guess that makes me feel a little better knowing if I lose them or by any means destroy them, there's another set that my boss has. 

I am also the last one out of the parking lot. I sit in my car for awhile, letting it heat up because it's absolutely freezing outside, and I'm pretty sure it's going to snow sometime today. My breath billows out in little dragon puffs, even in my car for a few minutes while it's heating up. I keep my gloves on until the air is blowing, and then I plug my phone into the aux. 

My phone rings and Joshua's face fills the screen. It's a photo I took of him when we went out to eat. He looks so good in it, I couldn't delete it. 

I keep the aux in the phone but answer the call, and his voice fills the car. "Good morning, babe," he says, and I think he might have just woken up, because his voice is all gravelly and tired sounding. 

"It's like two in the afternoon," I laugh as I click my seat belt in and step on the gas, pulling out of the parking lot. Joshua groans then, loud enough to startle me. I turn down the volume a little bit. 

"Whatever," Joshua mutters. He breathes in deeply, and I can hear every little sound he makes, down to the shuffling in his bed. "My mom invited us to dinner tonight."

I stop at a red light. There aren't many cars present on the roads right now, only two behind me, and I raise my eyebrows in question even though Joshua cannot see me. "You mean, like, formally meet your mom?" We've never fully met, and Joshua and I have been together since the middle or so of October. Again, not official until the beginning of November, but technically together since we started hooking up. I think I may say this a lot.

"Yeah, why not?' Joshua asks. "She's wanted to meet you for awhile now."

"Will it be just her?" I question. I'm fine with meeting Joshua's mom, I'm just not sure what she'll be like. Is she sweet? Is she like Joshua? Is she strict? Obviously she has got to be pretty chill with the LGBTQ community, as her own son is trans, so she will be cool with me. Unless she thinks I'm a bad influence or something. 

Joshua clears his throat, and I can hear him stepping out of bed, and maybe even pop his back. "My dad is working, I think, so just her and my younger brother and sister. Ashley has to take care of the baby so she can't come."

This means later on I'll still have to meet Joshua's dad, which scares me. Dads always scare me, I can't say why because I literally have no clue. "What time?" I'm getting closer to my apartment now, it is just down the street from where I currently am. Joshua sets the phone down, I hear it hit the hard surface it is under. I'm pretty sure he has put me on speakerphone. 

"Like six maybe?" 

I pull into the parking garage. "I can do that." It gives me enough time to shower and such, even though I showered this morning. Guess I want to be extra presentable now that I'm formally meeting Joshua's mom. I wonder what his younger siblings are like, how old they are, and if they're going to be funny. 

Joshua hangs up the phone with a promise to pick me up at five thirty, and until then, I tidy up the apartment because I have nothing better to do, shave with the new set that Joshua gave me, and then stand in front of the mirror, staring at my hair which is slowly growing back. Joshua buzzed it a couple of weeks ago on my birthday, and it's already starting to get a little fluffy again. I think I might keep it short for awhile. 

I leave my door unlocked for Joshua to come in, and when he does, he's wearing a pink sweatshirt and black jeans. I look down at my slightly more dressed up self, and I scowl at him. "I thought we were supposed to dress nice," I whine when I look back at his face from where my eyes were just at his sweatshirt.

"I never said anything about dressing nice," Joshua laughs. "You're just meeting my mom and brother and sister. They don't expect you do dress like you're going to a fancy restaurant."

He untucks my button up shirt for me, and I literally spent ten minutes trying to get it straight, but I say nothing. "Seriously, they aren't going to care about how you're dressed," he says. He kicks the door shut with his foot, keeping his shoes on because we have to be leaving in a few minutes. 

His stubble is growing out a lot more now, and I'm starting to think he won't be shaving it for awhile, that he's going to grow it out as a beard. I mean, I'm not complaining whatsoever. 

He pulls me into my bedroom so I can change, and I leave my other clothes on the bed as I grab my keys and phone and wallet. Joshua is driving because I have no idea where his mother lives, though it honestly isn't far from where I live, because we are there within fifteen minutes. A lot of it is maneuvering through the city and all of the buildings. 

There are two cars in the driveway already, and Joshua pulls up behind the newer looking one. "Oh!" he says as he's unbuckling his seat belt and I'm unbuckling mine. "You get to meet Jim!"

The door is unlocked and Joshua pulls me inside. It immediately smells like something salty, but not too salty, so it has to be some form of meat. I've noticed sometimes that my cognitive process is really odd, and that strange things come to mind often times. 

It's not my fault, I can't help it, sometimes I just think weird things without meaning to. Everything is intriguing though, and my mind is always wandering to whatever catches my attention at that moment. It's fast, and I think a lot about the things that probably shouldn't matter, but it's not like I can stop it. 

I follow Joshua's lead by hooking my fingers through his nervously. I shouldn't be nervous, I served his mom dinner, she barely looked my way. At least I think. Maybe she was staring at me when I wasn't looking. Though, that was more likely just Joshua. "Hey, we're here," he calls out as we're walking towards what I'm assuming is the kitchen and dining area. It is attached to the living room, sort of like Joshua's apartment but much larger, and with a kitchen island. 

No one is in the kitchen or in the living room, but the back door is open, and I can tell that it is definitely going to snow soon. The room is cold because of the open door, but who I'm assuming is Joshua's brother is standing outside, throwing the ball for a golden retriever. Jim. 

"Hey, Jordan!" Joshua yells. There is no backyard fence, just a vast, open field of grass stretching until an even larger expanse of trees. It must look so pretty when it snows here. 

Joshua's brother, Jordan, turns around at the sound of Joshua's voice, and he smiles, because his eyes lock directly onto my face and I know he's excited to meet me. He's almost identical to Joshua in a way, except is face is a little more square, and his hair isn't as curly. This is what I can see from a distance, but when he comes jogging inside, sighing at the difference in temperature, and Jim comes bolting inside too, I can tell he's basically a younger looking version of Joshua. Though they have differently shaped teeth. 

"What's up man?" Jordan says, pulling me in for a hug, which I don't expect, so I yelp quietly in surprise. Joshua laughs, but I hug Jordan back awkwardly. He looks like he couldn't be any older than twenty, twenty-one at most. He's wearing a winter jacket and a hat, but the jacket is unzipped, and he isn't even wearing proper shoes. Just slippers, and then jeans.

Now I really am glad Joshua made me change, because otherwise I would have just embarrassed myself. "Uh, hi," I squeak when Jordan pulls away. "I'm Tyler."

"Josh was right, you are hot," he laughs, and my eyes dart to Joshua, who is smiling that god forsaken gorgeous smile of his, and my stomach twangs awkwardly. I really don't know what to say, so I just smile awkwardly. Do I say thank you? Is it normal for your boyfriend's brother to call you hot upon meeting him? I don't think he's done, because he says, "And this is coming from an asexual person."

I quirk my eyebrows up in interest. This time, I do say something, and I really hope it doesn't sound rude, but before I can stop myself, I ask, "You're asexual?"

Jordan nods, sliding the back door shut. Jim is bouncing around at my feet excitedly, tongue lolling out, his eyes beady and wide. I crouch down to pet him, but my attention stays mostly on Jordan. Joshua is helping me take off my coat. "Yeah, sex just isn't my thing. Makes college a lot easier." He laughs then, and so does Joshua, so I guess I join in because they're both laughing and I don't know what else to do. Jordan is very upfront. God, I'm awkward. Please let this end. 

"Where's mom and Abby?" Joshua asks after he has draped his and I's coats over the back of the couch. 

"They forgot some stuff for dinner, I guess." Jordan shrugs, and places Jim's ball and its thrower in a basket near the back door filled to the brim with dog toys. 

Meeting Joshua's mom formally goes a lot better than I expected, and she hugs me too, while Abby waves at me shyly. She can't be older than eighteen, and it turns out she isn't - she is only seventeen and Jordan is nineteen, making Joshua the oldest of the four of them. 

When I offer to help set the table for dinner, Joshua's mom shoos me away in the most motherly way possible, but she does end up making Joshua help. So, I stand at the entrance of the kitchen while Joshua is setting out the cutlery and his mom is scooping mashed potatoes into a serving bowl. I love mashed potatoes. 

"Tyler, where are you from?" she asks me, not bothering to look up, but her attention still on me. She is an amazing multi-tasker.

"Born and raised in Columbus," I tell her. "I don't plan on leaving anytime soon, either."

Joshua's mom smiles. She's a little on the shorter side, much shorter than Joshua and I, but I am nearly six feet tall. Once she's done scooping the mashed potatoes, she turns to us and says, "You two can run off for a few minutes while I get everything else ready."

Joshua pulls me out of the kitchen then, muttering something about a bedroom, and he ends up showing me his very own childhood bedroom. His walls are lined with Rancid and blink-182 posters, almost no room between each of them, and a twin sized bed is pushed into the very corner by the window. There is also a drum set, though looking rather worn down, and a desk with nothing but a lamp on it. 

"Wow," I mumble, looking around the room. 

"Definitely had an interesting time as a teenager," Joshua laughs. "I was very angsty. Especially right after finding out I was trans. I guess I didn't really know how to express my emotions other than by being emo."

He slowly shuts the door behind him since I was the first to walk in, and I turn to look at him and that coy little smile. "I wish I could say my bedroom was as interesting as this," I breathe. "I wasn't too creative with my emotions besides hiding them."

Joshua hums in understanding. His eyes dart across his old room, on the worn down drum set that would probably fall apart if he sat down on it. It doesn't look like an old model, it just looks so used. Joshua must notice me starting at it too, because he says, "I played them a lot during that really confusing period of being a teenager. I was really angry for awhile and used the drums to release it. Puberty, I guess."

To think that Joshua went through a period of his life where he was confused, and didn't know what to do because puberty fucking sucks and he was born in the wrong body, scares me. But I know what he's going through. I just didn't express it in the same way he did. I didn't express it at all to anyone until I cracked under the pressure of being trans and getting beat up for it and buzzed all my hair off. A total 2007 Britney Spears meltdown. Though, my meltdown was January of 2004. 

Despite Joshua's heavy words, the air between us is still light, and there's no tension. We're standing in the center of his old room by now, surrounded by all of his past childhood memories, but he doesn't really seem to care, and he wraps himself around me, burrowing his face into the crook of my shoulder and inhaling deeply through his nose. 

I close my eyes. He's so warm, so soft, so close. 

I let my mind wander back to when we first met. There was so much sexual energy between us, thriving and buzzing and waiting for us to get each other off. I figured he would be a one time thing, that maybe one day I would run into him again on the street and fight to remember where I recognize him from, but no. Something was different about him, and I knew it from the moment he took his shirt off and I saw his surgery scars. 

I look back at that moment and realize that was a turning point - sort of like the climax of a story almost, where the most important moment of a book happens. I don't think I knew it at the time because I was too in shock, but after that time, there was going to be so much more than just hookups. 

Sure, we continuously hooked up after that, but it turned into more than just that. We got to know each other, I met his sister, his roommate, and now his mom and other siblings. If he was just a hookup, would he have invited me to meet his sister and then still be attracted me after that bloody - literally - mess I caused at her house? I doubt it. 

And then meeting my family, he was so kind and genuine, and he was a total charmer. They love him. 

So, I didn't really expect to get where we are now. Not at first, at least, but I'm not complaining. There's something about Joshua that I cannot explain. The way he's so careful yet so strong and the way he speaks his mind - the way he smiles so wildly, the way his hair curls behind his ears on on his forehead. The way his eyes squint and the way his tongue pokes out from behind his teeth when he smiles. 

It definitely wasn't love at first sight, I'm not sure if that exists. Maybe love of physical features at first sight. I was definitely attracted to him at first, and I wanted his skin all over mine, his body draped over me like a blanket, and while I still do, that's all I wanted at first. 

But now, I want so much more. I am his, he is mine. We are each other's, and I want that for as long as I may live. I think I want to grow old with him. 

I think I may love Joshua. 

And for some reason, I don't think I'm scared of the feeling. Of course, I've never experienced these feelings before because I've never really had a full relationship that wasn't anything more than sex, and even though it's my first time feeling this, it's almost familiar. 

It is new, yes, but I'm immediately comfortable with the thought of being in love with Joshua. It makes my entire body tingle, and I could probably cry right now. 

I just hope he returns these feelings.

I am pulled out of my thoughts by the flutter of Joshua's eyelashes on the exposed skin of my neck. "We should probably head back down, dinner should be ready by now," he mumbles, lips brushing against the same skin of my neck. He sounds tired and warm, and it feels the same way waking up with your blanket so warm and your pillow and mattress so soft, the way you're bundled up and snuggled into yourself. The best feeling I could ever ask for is Joshua, with whatever he may say or do. 

"You're right," I breathe, and lean my head back as Joshua's lips feather kisses along the rest of my neck. 

He pulls away, lips swollen slightly, and I swear I can see my reflection in his eyes. His smile is lazy and his eyes are blown wide. "Come on," he mumbles, and then pulls me downstairs, where Jordan and Ashley are just sitting down, and Joshua's mom is already sitting. 

"Wow, we were just about to call you guys down," Jordan says. "Just read my mind."

Dinner goes really well, and I end up only having to meet Joshua's father now. It lasts a little longer than I would have expected, because I'm being asked so many questions and such, and I'm nursing a glass of wine because I'm classy. 

After dinner is over and I'm full, and my wine glass is empty, Joshua offers to do the dishes, and pulls Abby into it too, I'm left sitting on the couch next to Jordan, Joshua's mother - though she insists I call her Laura - on the arm chair tilted towards it. 

There is a large television on a rather nice looking stand with drawers and cabinets and such, and Jim is lying in front of it, asleep with a Little Caesar's stuffed toy tucked between his paws. I'm not sure if we can be heard from the kitchen, though it doesn't seem like Joshua is paying attention to us right now. He and Abby are focused. 

Jordan turns on the couch so that his feet are on it too, his knees tucked into his chest. Laura is knitting, not really paying attention to us either. Jordan rests his chin on his knees and wraps his arms around his legs, watching me. I cross one of my legs over the other, and glance at him. He's sort of strange, but in a good way. He probably skateboards. 

"So," he clears his throat, "how long have you and Josh known each other?" 

I swear one of them asked me this question before, or maybe Joshua told them already. Or maybe that wine went straight to my head, who knows? 

I sniff. "Since mid October, I think?" It comes out more like a question, though I'm not sure. He definitely asked me a couple of weeks before Halloween to go to his sister's house, and that was the day after we met - the first time we had sex. Looking back at it, why did he ask me to meet his sister if we had known each other for a day?

"How did you guys meet?" Again, another thing I'm sure Joshua has told them. 

"Didn't he tell you this?" I ask, shuffling and crossing my other leg over. 

Jordan shrugs, smile wild like Joshua's. "Yeah, I just wanted to hear it from you too," he says. "It's kinda cute."

I swear, he's so peculiar. I smile then, because while he's odd, he's still nice, and I like thinking about how Joshua and I met, because it's not something I would normally encounter. Should I mention the part about him trying to get into my pants before we even knew each other's names? Probably not, considering Laura is here, though she probably already knows. 

"Uh," I start, running my hands over my very short but still getting fluffier hair. "Well, Joshua and your mom-" God, saying that makes me sound so old "-came into the restaurant where I work to have dinner, and I happened to be waiting tables, and I picked up their order. Joshua was being rather flirtatious while I was working, but it wasn't until after I had finished working that we fully met."

Jordan urges me to go on with an almost puppy-dog look in his eyes, so I breathe in and continue. "I was trying to walk home, but Joshua was waiting for me in the parking lot."

"You're such a creep," Laura yells to Joshua, who says, "What?" as if he doesn't know that waiting for me in the parking lot of my work for me to end my shift is creepy. 

I continue, "He offered to drive me home because my car was being repaired at the time, and at first I was a little reluctant, because you know, he's some random guy offering me a ride home, but he was actually really sweet."

"And then you guys fucked."

"Jordan!" Laura scolds, looking up from her knitting with a scowl. God, he's weird, and I'm embarrassed, but I can't help but laugh at the situation. Laura doesn't look too pleased with Jordan, but she doesn't do anything about it, just grumbling and then going back to her knitting. 

And then Jordan goes on, and earlier, right before dinner, he said we had read his mind, but I'm starting to think he's the one who can read minds, or at least mine, because he asks, "Do you love him?"

I am extremely unprepared for this question. I just realized I love Joshua myself, now I have to go around saying it, and telling his brother of all people?

"W-what?" I splutter.

"Are you in love with Joshua?" Jordan asks. He isn't demanding about it, he's just looking at me curiously, searching for an answer but staying in place. 

I scratch my head. I can tell that Laura is listening in on the conversation but is also trying to not be noticeable, because she's knitting a little faster than usual. I pray to whatever god that may be out there that Joshua can't hear us right now. 

I do love Joshua, yes, he's amazing. He's kind and warm and everything I could ask for wrapped up into one person. But I don't know if he feels the same way about me, so I don't know if telling Jordan would be the best idea, because what if I say I do love him and then he thinks we're moving too fast? What if he never wants to see me again?

When I don't say anything, when I stare at my shaking hands and pick at the skin around my fingernails, Jordan nudges me with his foot. "You don't have to say anything, it's fine," he says quietly. "I understand if you're not sure yet."

I inhale shakily. "I'm sure," I whisper. "I do love Joshua."

...

Joshua and I leave once the dishes are done, and everything is normal, Joshua says nothing out of the ordinary, which leads me to believe that he didn't hear Jordan and I's conversation, and that everything is good. 

Still, even as we're back in his apartment, our pajamas on as we're setting up a Christmas movie with hot chocolate, I still feel oddly anxious about it. I'm paranoid that he's going to say something like I'm not ready yet or I'm not capable of love. But if he wasn't capable of love, then why would be put himself through a relationship. 

Joshua has put on Christmas with the Kranks. It may not be as old as some others, but to me, it is still a classic, and I always love watching it. I just don't like that weird guy with the sons who is sort of an asshole. I'm sitting in between Joshua's legs on the couch, a blanket draped over us, my back against his chest. We're sort of laying down, but still propped up so that we can drink our hot chocolate without spilling. Mine has little marshmallows in it. 

About halfway through the movie, Joshua sets his mug down onto the coffee table, all of the hot chocolate gone. I still have a few sips left of mine, and I'm about to take another, but Joshua presses a warm kiss to just behind my ear. I almost think nothing of it as I set my mug of hot chocolate down too, but Joshua kisses my jaw, and then below my jaw, venturing further. 

"What are you doing?" I hum. The only light source is the television, all of the other lights in the apartment turned off because Brendon is asleep. It's only 9:30, maybe a little bit after. He must have been pretty tired. 

Joshua continues pressing little kisses down my neck, but both of us have scooted up so that it's easier for Joshua to reach. I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. 

Joshua doesn't respond to my question, only wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and pulling me as close is humanly possible, and a small breath of air escapes my lips when he nips at the hollow of my throat. I didn't really expect to have sex tonight, but okay. 

He barely lifts his lips from my skin as he takes one of my hands and links our fingers together tightly, almost too tight, and whispers quietly, almost inaudibly, "I love you."

My grip tightens our hands together even further, and Joshua pauses, waiting for me to say something, anything. 

I think I'm crying. 

I tilt my head forward, and release Joshua's hand from my death grip, burying my face in my own hands. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Joshua pauses the movie, the remote making a small click as he sets it back down against the coffee table, and then his very warm hand is under my shirt, rubbing my back. 

My cheeks are wet with tears, smearing on my hands.

Does he really love me? Or is he just saying that because he overheard Jordan and I and felt pressured?

I shake my head with a loud sniffle. I'm such an ugly crier. "I've just never felt this way about someone before." My voice cracks and a sob heaves its way out of me, not really what I was expecting. I know I felt like crying earlier, but this was honestly not the reaction I thought I would have to Joshua expressing his feelings for me. 

"If you're not ready to say it, that's okay," Joshua says, and he's so genuine. He always is, so soft and caring and I don't get it. He's so okay with everything, like a cloud passing over a field of flowers. He is still rubbing my back. 

I shake my head again, and wipe my eyes with the heels of my palms, throwing the blanket off of us so that I can turn around to face him. "I feel the same way about you," I say, and he takes my hand again, both this time, face barely illuminated by the paused television. "Even if we haven't been together for very long, I know that you're so much more than anyone else. I - I don't believe in love at first sight, really, but I knew that I was going to fall hard the moment we met."

Joshua laughs softly, looking down at our hands, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. "I think I fell in love pretty early on," he admits, and if it wasn't dark, I could probably make out his blush. "Just being with you makes me feel so alive. And I thought maybe I was just in love with the moments we share, but I know it's not just that."

My stomach is filled to the brim with wildflowers, growing quickly and tickling at my sides. My tears have slowed. They're happy tears. 

"I love you so much, Joshua."


	13. Thirteen

I wake up Christmas morning in my own childhood bedroom because my mom insisted that I sleep over. The walls of my room are bare, like how I explained to Joshua, because I wasn't entirely interested in a lot except for basketball when I was a teenager.

The walls are a light blue, they used to be a regular beige like every other room in the house, but I begged my parents to paint them when I was thirteen and they caved.

The walls are thin and my door is cracked, so I can hear my parents and siblings talking downstairs. Maddy and Will live close enough, so they must have drove here earlier while I was still asleep. Tatum and Zack stayed the night just like me, and obviously Jay did too because he still lives here.

I'm not wearing a lot, just a shirt and boxers, which makes me think that maybe I should put on some pants or something. I know I brought a pair of pajama pants, so I roll out of bed and dig through my overnight bag, eventually finding the pants. I also pull out my binder, the one Joshua got me, and put that on too, because there is no way in hell that I am going downstairs without it.

I also put some socks on because again, I despise feet, they're disgusting, and then trudge downstairs. I don't really expect to do a lot today except open presents and then have dinner, and then go back home and see Joshua. I also don't really expect to open that many presents. I never really get a ton of presents now like I did when I was a kid, mainly because I'm twenty-five, but also because I'm really hard to buy for. I've always been pretty hard to buy for because I'm not super interested in anything.

"Merry Christmas!" is the first thing Maddy, who is first to notice me as I'm halfway down the stairs, says to me. Everyone is awake and drinking coffee, but no presents have been opened. Maybe they were waiting for me, but they really didn't have to.

I remember being younger and being so excited for christmas. I would wake up at like 3 in the morning after having not been able to sleep out of pure greed and excitement, but that excitement eventually decreased as the years piled on.

It's about eight in the morning now, and this would have been a literal sin for me to wake up this late if I was still a child. My siblings would have woken me up anyway, they used to do that every year.

I mumble a response to Maddy, rubbing my eyes and trying to take a deep breath even with my binder on. With my old binder, since it was much more broken into, I could easily take a deep breath, but now that I only wear the new one Joshua gave me, deep breathing is a lot harder to do because the material isn't stretched out.

"Would you like some coffee, honey?" my mom asks, already reaching for a mug out of the cabinet, so I shrug as a way to tell her sure, and she pours me some. I prefer iced coffee, but hot will have to suffice right now. I pour peppermint coffee creamer into the mug once my mom hands it to me, smiling tiredly at her as a way of saying thank you.

"Can we open presents now?" Maddy asks. She's always been super eager to open presents, even now that she's almost twenty and married. She has always been closer to her childish side. "I want everyone to open the presents I got them."

Of course, I always get presents for my siblings. Even when we were younger I would, it was basically an unwritten rule that we would get something for everyone.

Opening presents always takes about an hour and a half, and I end up getting some cool socks from Jay, a ukulele from Zack and Tatum - though I have absolutely no clue how to play, I guess this means I have to learn now, and a new kitchen mixer from Maddy and Will. Though I thought I was hard to buy for, I guess I was wrong. The mixer looks pretty expensive, and I give Maddy a really big hug. I can actually use this a lot, it's probably really handy for baking when making cookie dough and stuff.

I don't think I have any presents to open from my parents, but that doesn't entirely surprise me. I'm an adult, I pay my own bills, Christmas is just something my parents probably think I'm not too fond of. I don't mind it, but if they think I'm not find of it, why would they invite me over for Christmas?

We're done opening everything, I feel neutral, because I really didn't have anything to look forward to in the first place. But then my mom stands up and walks over to the bookshelf, pulling out a book and then opening it to reveal an envelope.

Everyone is watching her now, and when she turns, her eyes land directly on me.

"I wanted you to open your present last," she tells me which a soft smile, and my stomach twangs anxiously, but in a good way. I didn't know they were going to be getting me anything, and even though they did, what could it possibly be? It isn't like I asked for anything. And it's in an envelope?

My mom sits down next to me, but I'm silent. I don't know why, but I find it hard to speak. My dad is sitting in the armchair next to the couch, the giant couch that fits almost all of us except for Jay and Zack who are sitting on the floor. Zack is playing with the cuff of Tatum's pajama pant leg, but he's still watching me curiously. Everyone is watching me. 

I stare at the envelope. It's plain white, flimsy, almost as if there is nothing in it. My name is written in my mother's loopy cursive handwriting, and then in the corner, it says with love, mom and dad. 

I sort of feel bad now because I didn't expect to get anything, and now I'm unsure of what to do. I think I might be staring at it for a little too long because my mom nudges me with her shoulder into my shoulder, carefully, and says, "Come on, slowpoke. Open it."

I chew on the inside of my cheek as my skin heats up a little, turning the envelope over. It has been closed with a little Christmas wreath sticker, but it doesn't look like it has been fully sealed - it hasn't been licked so that the glue will stick. They probably did this so that it would be easier to open. 

My siblings and then Tatum and Will have all scooted in a little closer to watch, sort of like children who find something that catches their eye, like a puppy or a squirrel. Children are a lot like dogs. I move from chewing on my cheek to my bottom lip. 

I dig my nail under the sticker and flip open the envelope, pulling out a thin piece of paper. I turn it over and it's a check. 

It might be the overall stress of the holidays and whatnot, or maybe because I'm tired, or maybe because I really need this, but I start crying. I've barely read the words that are in my dad's handwriting this time, for top surgery, and the number that definitely has four digits, before my eyes well up with tears and my hands start to shake. 

"M-mom, what is this?" My voice cracks, and I drop the check into my lap, turning to my mom. My siblings stare confusedly this time, not curiously. 

"Merry Christmas, Tyler," my mom says, and she pulls me into a warm hum, and I suddenly feel like a child again. I would come to her when I would cry, and she would hold me, telling me everything would be alright.

She was the first one I told about me being trans. She told me how proud of me she was, told me I was a strong young man, and I felt a strong sense of security in knowing that she was accepting of me. My entire family was, but my mom especially. 

She has always been supportive of me no matter what, and though it has been about a month or so since me blowing up on her at Thanksgiving, I think back to it when she was looking after me, being a mother, and I failed to realize that. I feel smaller in her arms though I am much taller, and it's like we're the only two people in the room, even though this present is also from my dad. He has never been super affectionate, so I'm sure he'll be fine with just a hug once I'm done crying to my mom. 

I'm twenty-five years old and I'm sobbing into my mom's arms. Nice. 

She makes no move to pull away, but what after feels like years, I do, wiping at my tear-stained face. I'm an ugly crier, my face always gets really red. "Why would - why would you guys give me this?" I hiccup. 

"Because we know how much you want it," my dad speaks up first. "You've been saving up for awhile, but we wanted to help you out."

"You guys really didn't have to," I breathe, shakily picking up the check again. "This is so much money."

"You can't give it back," my mom says. Her hand is on mine, she's so warm and loving. I'm still crying, but no longer sobbing. "We were talking to Joshua not too long ago about your surgery and he was extremely helpful."

"He knows about this?" I croak, my eyes threatening more and more tears. 

My mom nods, her smile soft. "I don't know much about the different types of top surgery," she starts, clearing her throat, and by now, my siblings and Will and Tatum have all figured out what the present was, and they are talking amongst themselves, "but Joshua told me a little bit about keyhole surgery."

"That's - that's the one he mentioned to me awhile ago," I say. "I don't know how much it costs though. I mean, I already have some money saved up, and with the-"

"What we gave you covers it, Tyler," my mom stops me. "Joshua told us what to do."

"So he's been in on this?" I squeak, carefully putting the check back into the envelope. My mom nods, and Maddy has scooted over on the couch so that my dad can sit next to me. He gives me a big hug, but it isn't nearly as soft as my mom's. 

"He has," he says. "He's a really nice boy, Tyler. I like him a lot."

"I do too." I sniff, wiping my eyes again. 

The subject changes off of my top surgery then, which I know I'll have to discuss with Joshua later when he comes over to my apartment tonight. He's so sneaky, talking to my parents like that. It changes to the topic of Joshua, and I scoot back into the cushions as far as I possibly can because it's probably going to be a little embarrassing. Feelings always get me flustered. 

My siblings and Tatum and Will are back in on the conversation. "How long have you been dating now?" Tatum asks, smiling when Zack kisses her hand tiredly. They're too cute. 

"Since October," I tell her. "A couple of months."

"You love him, don't you?" Jay suggests, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes me roll my eyes. My cheeks heat up nevertheless, and I nod, which causes both Maddy and Tatum to squeal. I'm the only one in the family who is remotely queer. I'm gay and trans, everyone else is cis and straight, but I've never had a problem with that other than when I was a teenager and felt like they didn't understand me.

I'm trying to get better about my hostility towards cis and straight people. We have our differences, obviously, but I can't just let one occurrence completely change my mindset forever. Yeah, what happened was scary, and I was extremely hostile towards a lot of people after it, especially cis men, but now, I know things are different.

I can learn to not be so scared of them, because not all of them are taunting like James, who thankfully has never done anything physical besides tripping me on the sidewalk, and not all of them are going to beat the shit out of me like in high school. Some people are good, most people are good. 

I've seen how in love Tatum and Zack are, and then Maddy and Will. I love my family, and seeing them so in love and happy used to scare me a lot, but I think now that I'm with Joshua, things are different.

He's proved me wrong.

...

The first thing I say to Joshua when he steps foot inside my apartment is, "You jerk!" 

Obviously I don't mean it literally, he isn't a jerk, I just can't seem to find the right word to associate with him right now. I'm so sincerely happy with what he did, telling my parents like that, telling them what needs to be done and then educating them on top surgery, but still, he's a sneaky little bastard. 

"What did I do?" he laughs, and he has my presents in his arms. He kicks the door closed with his foot and toes off his shoes. Two of the presents are thin and square, and the other is a box. 

"You talked to my parents about top surgery," I whine when he sets the presents down on the coffee table. I'm leaning on the edge of the back of the couch, and Joshua turns around with a smile. He's wearing glasses today, tortoise shell ones, because he must have left his contacts at home, or maybe his prescription ran out. I honestly didn't know about him needing glasses until a few weeks ago. 

"Oh, that," he says, as if he was completely clueless before, and I hop over the edge of the couch, pulling him down on top of me. 

"You're such an asshole for not telling me," I laugh, and he lays his head against my chest, his chin pressing into my binder. I think I might need to take it off soon, I've been wearing it since this morning except for my shower earlier when I got home. 

"I couldn't ruin the surprise," Joshua says with a shrug. It has gotten a little later into the day, after dinner now because we both stayed at our parents' houses for the day. 

He allows me to sit up so that I can pull my shirt off and then my binder, exposing my naked chest. Before Joshua, I was so scared to show anyone my chest, sometimes even myself. But because Joshua used to have a chest like mine, and soon I'll have a chest like his, I feel giddy. He knows what it's like to have breasts and wear a binder. 

He's a breath of fresh air that I didn't know I needed. 

I pull my shirt back on, but not before Joshua peppers kisses all over my skin, murmuring something about how we should open presents and then go into the bedroom. 

I've gotten him a set of drumsticks and one of those plastic drum sets for home practice because whenever he actually does want to practice, it has to be at work because he can't have one in his apartment. He gets me a record player and then a couple of records, which I'm really thankful for, because I've always wanted one but have never actually bought one. 

I hook it up next to the television and put one of the records on it, one by Sufjan Stevens, so it is very mellow as I fill up the bath and Joshua pulls his clothes off. 

We keep the door open, something I wouldn't normally do even though I live alone, probably because of years of trying to conceal my body, so that we can hear the music. Joshua squeezes some of my shampoo into the water while it's still running because I don't actually have any bubble bath. 

It smells like coconut, and we sit on either side of it, Joshua's back to the faucet. His scars have faded a lot more now, but they are still pretty prominent. His freckled arm hangs off of the edge of the tub. 

Neither of us make a move to wash any part of our body, and I really don't need to because I already showered, but something about taking a bath with Joshua sounded so appealing to me. Joshua is still wearing his glasses, his hair curling behind his ears and up over the nape of his neck and then on his forehead. 

We're staring at each other. Normally, if this were with anyone else, tension would be thick enough in the air to be cut with a sharp knife, but the air feels fluid with Joshua. Easy to breathe, my chest doesn't hurt, only my heart does because he's just so incredible. 

He closes his eyes, his toes just barely pressed to mine, and he curls them over my feet, and I chew on my lip. I can almost swear he has fallen asleep after several minutes of silence, but then he opens his eyes and sinks a little further down into the tub so that his chest is no longer showing. Mine is barely, the curve of my barely-there breasts covered by the bubbles. 

"What are you doing?" I ask when he sinks so low into the bath that only his eyes and up pop out, staring at me sort of like a crocodile in a swamp. He pushes bubbles out of the way, and I'm not entirely sure if he heard me because his ears are underwater, but he can probably read my lips, because he pushes himself closer to me and pops his head out of the water. 

"You're so weird," I comment, wiping bubbles off of his still growing beard. It has covered his jaw by now, but it still has yet to be full. When I was younger I would never have expected myself to have facial hair, but now I have to shave to keep it out of the way. 

"Weird is good," Joshua tells me. "Keeps me original."

His hands slide up my naked thighs through the water and up my back, his eyes never leaving mine. Sufjan Stevens plays in the background from the record player in the living room, something I am so incredibly grateful for. It's extremely corny, but having Joshua here is probably the best present I could receive though. Besides my parents' present, of course. 

"You're right," I hum. "Weird is good."

"You're weird too," Joshua breathes, putting his mouth in the water so that it bubbles up around him. "But in a good way."

"Better be." And I wrap my legs around my waist as best as I can in the tub, and lay my head back as he starts getting a little experimental with his fingers, and then his lips are on my neck, and I'm gasping for breath. "Jo-Josh," I gasp when he bites my neck, pressure in between my legs heightened. 

"Mm, merry Christmas," he groans when I move my hand between his legs, because there's no way he isn't getting anything out of this. 

...

The record stops playing on its own, but Joshua and I fall asleep very naked on my bed, and in the morning the blankets are barely on either of us. 

Joshua's hand is on my chest, but his eyes are open. He's watching me as I smack my lips tiredly. "Morning, sleeping beauty," he says, his voice gravelly because he probably just woke up too. He scoots closer because before, he was on the separate edge of the bed, and his curly mess of hair falls over his eyes. It's getting a little long. 

I stretch my arms over my head and pop my back as Joshua traces his finger under the curves of my breasts. "Just imagine what it's going to be like for you once these are gone," he mumbles tiredly. 

I turn towards him, pulling the blanket over the both of us. Cold air in places I don't want it. 

"I can finally walk outside shirtless." My grin is wide. I've wanted to do that for years upon years, though I was never able to. Even when I was little, maybe eight or nine or ten, I was eager to go outside and play with all of the neighborhood boys who had their shirts off. I wanted to be like them, wanted to not have to cover up my chest. 

I didn't understand why my mom wouldn't let me at the time. Obviously when I started actually getting breasts, I understood. It hurt so bad. 

"I'm so excited," I continue. 

"Your mom told you I was talking about keyhole surgery, yeah?" Joshua asks, and I nod, brushing the curls out of his eyes to see his gorgeous face better. "It would probably be best for you, because yours are so small already, and it's a lot cheaper than double incision."

"Didn't you have to get that?" I already know he did, but hearing him say it makes me feel a little more confident in myself because he's already had top surgery and knows how things go. He can show me the works. 

"Yeah, but only because my chest was so much bigger than yours is," he mentions. "T didn't do must justice to it. I had to wear a binder for a long time. I can give you my surgeon's information."

He wraps his arms around my waist and I straddle his hips. I trace my fingers over the scars under his now pecs, and he closes his eyes with a quiet sigh. "When is their office back open?" Knowing that it's the holidays, it's very unlikely that anything will be open today, but usually the day after the day after Christmas, everything opens back up. 

"Tomorrow," Joshua groans as he stretches his entire body out, opening his eyes and training them on me once again. "I think he might be on vacation until after the new year though."

He trails his hands over my hips and up my back, pressing lightly to a hickey that he probably left last night on my shoulder. In hot water, it's a lot easier to leave hickeys because the skin is already so sensitive. 

"Are you going to like me more once these are gone?" I ask quietly, referring to my breasts, and Joshua frowns, sitting up so quickly that I almost fall over. 

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly, his eyebrows furrowed.

I look down at my stomach, the little pocket of fat that will never really go away because of my uterus. I also shrug my shoulders, suddenly a little self conscious. I wrap my arms around my chest protectively. 

"I don't know," I say, and my voice cracks. "My body will be more masculine?" Even though I'm extremely comfortable with Joshua, it isn't like my dysphoria has completely disappeared. 

Joshua scoffs, hands on my elbows, but he makes no move to pull my arms away from covering my chest. It would just upset me further, him not doing anything about it is a good move. Though, by the look in his eyes, I can tell he's still very concerned. "Your body isn't the only thing I'm with you for," he breathes. "You're more than just a body, Tyler. You're a heart and a soul and a person. It would be incredibly selfish of me to dislike you because you don't look the same as other men."

I swallow thickly, tears threatening, and my stomach churns. 

Joshua continues, "And I understand why you would be concerned. There are a lot of guys out there who are extremely unappreciative of bodies like ours, but Tyler, you know I love you just the way you are."

He kisses my check tenderly then, brushing away my tears with his lips, and I wonder how incredibly lucky I had to have been to stumble upon him. 

I don't ever want to let go.


	14. Fourteen

I have to breathe in really deeply. I was told I could cover up my chest, not have my breasts showing, cover my nipples with tape. 

But I'm still sort of terrified. No one besides Joshua has ever seen me without my shirt on, or at least recently. All those meaningless hookups probably forgot I existed, so I doubt they'd remember my odd looking chest. But most times I would wear my binder, anyway.

Dysphoria is a bitch. 

One thing about wearing a binder means even with my small breasts, everything is still squished down and it makes them a lot flatter. Normal breasts, ones that aren't always covered by a binder, are perkier, and stick out. Mine are there, yeah, but they're flatter because of years of my binder pressing them down. 

I'm standing in the doctor's office, but in the examination room, all by myself. I was told to take my shirt off and cover up my nipples. I have my shirt off, but not my binder, and my throat feels tight, like it is going to close up and not allow me to breathe. 

I told myself I was going to be fine, but I feel so incredibly nervous right now I don't know what to do. They are going to examine my chest, talk to me about top surgery, and then schedule a date for me to actually have the surgery. 

I thought at first I would go to my doctor about all of this, see Hayley, because she herself is trans and knows the process of top surgery. Though, she had a completely different one than I did. But being trans, I trust her a little bit more than I would a cis doctor, because she has experience dealing with trans issues. That's why I'm glad she gives me my prescriptions for testosterone, because she takes estrogen. 

I am at Joshua's doctor's office though, because he helped me set up an appointment here. It's going to be with the same surgeon, I am going to meet him, and then everything will be figured out. At least I think. I am not entirely sure how this process works, but Joshua told me to call him if I need anything. He has to work, he would have come but he really has to be at his job. I go to work after this, I made sure to be excused so that I could come without getting fired. My boss is cool. Plus, I also get to see Hannah, and I haven't seen her in absolutely forever. 

I'm dialing Joshua's number as I sit down, and the doctor is probably wondering what the hell is taking me so long. I didn't think my dysphoria would hit this hard, but I'm really not used to showing anyone my chest. 

I'm fine with showing Joshua, but there are still times when it creeps up on me and I can't help it. Despite the smaller size of my breasts, they're still there, and I have to deal with them until I can have surgery. And that's what I'm here for. 

Joshua doesn't pick up the phone, which makes me feel a little uneasy because he told me I would be able to call him. It's okay, he's probably busy, I'll be fine. I'll be just fine. 

The tape they gave me is the medical stuff that holds down gauze, probably so it won't rip at my skin. I shakily pull off my shirt and then my binder, which allows cold air to flow through and let me breathe deeply, once, twice, and then three times. 

I cut off a little strip of tape with the safety scissors they gave me. I'm a grown man, why would they give me safety scissors? The tape is wider, big enough to cover my nipples, and I peel off the paper part and stick the adhesive over both of my nipples. 

Who I'm assuming is the doctor knocks on the door, and says, "Tyler, may I come in?"

My stomach twangs anxiously, but I know I have to get this over with. "Y-yeah," I croak, and the door clicks open. I don't recognize him, but I know he is Joshua's doctor because his name tag says Dr. M. Healy. Joshua didn't mention much about him except for the fact that he specializes in trans surgery for men, women, and nonbinary people, so I can breathe a little easier. 

He barely looks at my chest, instead sitting in a swivel chair at a desk. There are pictures lined up, none of them with him in the frame, but instead of a dog, ranging from being a puppy to fully grown. He speaks, and he has an English accent. 

"I'm Dr. Healy," he says, "but if you're more comfortable, you can call me Matty. I only want you to feel safe."

"Nice to meet you," I breathe uneasily, I don't know why I'm so uneasy. Probably just being here shirtless in front of a brand new person. I shouldn't be so nervous, he specializes in these kinds of things. "I'm Tyler."

Matty smiles. It feels odd referring to him by his first name even though he told me to, I'm so used to calling doctors just doctor. The only doctor I'm used to calling by their first name is Hayley, but because I've known her for so long. "I know," he laughs, and then he's looking his computer, and I'm reminded slightly of my appointment with Hayley. I was sitting on the chair with the crinkling paper cover and Hayley was at her desk. 

While he's still reading something on his computer, Matty asks, "Tell me a little bit about you and Joshua. How did you two meet?"

I swallow thickly. Is he close with Joshua? 

"Uh, he's my boyfriend," I start. "He recommended you to me, and... that's why I'm here. He would have come with, but he had work. We met at the restaurant where I work."

Matty spins around in his chair a couple of times, and I wonder how old he is. He looks carefree, his hair is a floppy, curly mess, sort of like Joshua's but shortly cropped on the sides, and his nails are painted black but chipping. 

"I performed Joshua's surgery last June," Matty tells me, and he only says last June because it is January now. It is 2014 now, Joshua and I will be twenty-six this year. I don't have to worry about that for another eleven months though, so I push it to the back of my mind. "Though, he had double incision. You won't be needing that."

He scoots towards me in his swivel chair, but still keeps a slight distance. "Just to inform you now, I keep my meetings more confidential for the sake of the patient." He has a sharpie in his hand, uncapped and red ink. "I have to show you how the surgery works, where and how we will be operating," he continues. "Is it alright if I draw on you to show you where? If you aren't comfortable I can work with a chart."

He lifts the sharpie up slightly to point to my chest, and I nod, sitting up a little straighter. "Please tell me if you're uncomfortable." 

He makes little dash marks around my breasts, not touching them, carefully avoiding, and I stare at his mess of hair while he speaks. I end up having to look in a mirror as he points and explains everything. Once he has finished explaining the surgery, which should be between an hour and a half and three hours, he says, "And you understand the cost, correct? Will your insurance plan be covering it or will you be paying out of pocket?"

I didn't even think about insurance, and though I do have it, I doubt it will cover my top surgery. It is more for essential things, like if I get run over and lose an arm or if I need brain surgery or something. I doubt either of those will happen. Plus, they wouldn't view top surgery as essential. So, out of pocket it is. I have the money from my parents and the stuff I've been saving up. 

"Out of pocket," I tell him. "It's sort of a gift from my parents."

"Lucky you," Matty says shoving the sharpie into a mug full of other pens on his desk. He struggles a little bit because there are so many pens in there. "When I got top surgery I paid for it out of pocket too. Took me years to save up."

"You're trans?"

Matty turns back to me, nodding. "That's why I enjoy my job so much," he laughs. "Being able to help out the trans community makes me feel so good."

I guess that explains a lot. If I wasn't so lazy, I would push myself to get a degree and become a doctor to help out the trans community. It takes a lot of work though, and I don't know if right now is the best time for me, especially with all that is currently going on. Maybe in a few years, who knows?

I leave the appointment half an hour later with a date set up for my surgery, and the entire process went a lot quicker than I expected. I thought there would be more appointments before we could really determine what day I would have my surgery done, but no, Matty was great, and talked me through the process. 

I'm stepping into work and the first thing Hannah does when I step behind the bar is envelop me in a giant hug, which squeezes my binder a little bit, but I don't say anything about it. "God, I haven't seen you in forever!" she says, pulling away and keeping me at arm's length, her hands on my shoulders. She examines my face. She has bangs now, and her hair is a lot lighter, but her dark roots are growing out. 

"You haven't shaved in awhile," she comments, and lets go of my shoulders.

"I've been too lazy," I say, and my shift starts in five minutes, though I should probably just start now. "Things have also been really hectic lately."

Hannah nods, readjusting her septum just a little bit before pouring a beer from the tap for a customer. Why people drink beer at lunchtime has me baffled, because I only drink alcohol in the evening. I'm itching to tell Hannah about my top surgery, and Joshua too, but he's still working, and we both are until tonight. I don't get off until closing time, but then I am going to go to Joshua's and tell him all about the appointment. I'll tell Hannah during my dinner break. 

It is just after lunchtime, so there are still quite a few people, but not as many as there would be during the rush. I am waiting tables for over an hour before I realize how hungry I am, because I haven't had lunch myself, and breakfast was an orange because I hate all breakfast foods that aren't hashbrowns. Eggs? No. Toast? Definitely not. Bacon? Not really. 

I'm very particular, I've come to notice. I don't like a lot of things, and I guess that makes me picky, and it is more than just food. My weird dislike for feet is definitely one of those things too. I am also not too incredibly fond of apples. Maybe it's the texture thing, where some textures don't agree with my mouth. 

Jordan and Ashley come in for dinner, and I still have heard nothing from Joshua today, except for this morning when he texted me, asking me to come over tonight. He must be really busy at work, because I am usually able to text him but he hasn't responded to either of my texts. 

"Hey, Tyler," Jordan and Ashley both say to me, and if I wasn't working, I would hug them, but I don't, and instead smile and ask them if they would like anything to drink. Now that Ashley has had the baby, she is able to drink again, so she orders a glass of wine, and Jordan gets a sprite because he's still underage. He is here until the fifteenth of January, which is in five days, and then he is off to college again, because the semester is starting up soon. 

I may have met all of Joshua's siblings, but I think Jordan is my favorite. He's odd, sort of like me, but in a different way. And he is so incredibly understanding, possibly even more than Joshua's sisters, if that is possible. 

I bring them their drinks and take their orders, all the while weaving in and out of other tables to take orders. 

I spend my dinner break in the break room eating a sandwich, reading on my phone, when Joshua finally texts me. Finally home, it says. I was so busy at work, sorry for not being able to call you back :( 

I smile while I type my response, and Hannah comes to sit across from me at the table. "How was your appointment?" she asks, unwrapping a cup up ramen, filling it up with water and then setting it in the microwave. 

"Really good," I say, swallowing my food. "I have a date set up for my top surgery."

Hannah's eyes widen and very enthusiastically, she says, "Really? When?" Her entire face is lit up, sort of like a Christmas tree. 

"March twelfth." She hugs me from across the table, nearly knocking my sandwich onto the floor, but even if she did I would excuse it because she's just that great. 

...

The door to Joshua's apartment is unlocked when I get there, so I just step right inside because that isn't unlike either of us - often times we just walk into each other's apartments because obviously we're expecting the other. 

"Hey, I'm here," I call as I'm taking off my shoes and pulling off my coat, shoving my gloves and hat into the pockets. I can hear a movie playing, and when I walk into the living room, Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon are all snuggled up against each other, staring at the television. 

"Hi, Tyler," Sarah says, smiling at me. "I made pasta if you want some. It's on the stove." 

While pasta does sound great right now, I say, "I ate at work. Where's Joshua?"

Brendon turns to look at me from over the back of the couch. "Shower." And then he's looking back at the television, so I shrug, making my way to the bathroom. I could probably use a shower right now, so I can wash the sharpie off of my chest. I knock on the door, and Joshua's voice is slightly muffled, so I just say, "It's me."

The door is unlocked so I close myself inside, and lock the door then. Over the bathroom fan noises, Joshua asks, "Care to join me?" He peeks his head out from behind the shower curtain with a smile, his hair covered in shampoo, running down his forehead and threatening to get in his eyes. 

I quickly undress myself and step inside the shower, Joshua immediately hugging me tightly. "How did your appointment go?" he questions as I'm grabbing the shampoo. 

"Really good," I tell him. "I really liked Matty."

"I told you he was cool!" Joshua says. "Did you set up a date for your surgery?"

I nod, and tell him, but for some reason, I'm not as excited as I think I should be. Yeah, I'm excited to finally be able to walk around shirtless, and excited that I have so many people in my life that support me, but at the same time, I don't feel too particularly thrilled about it. It could be the nerves getting to me, or the fact that it was a really long day and life has been hectic lately. I am beyond excited, trust me, I'm just not feeling it at the moment. I kind of want to get my mind off of it.

I can tell Joshua is really excited, regardless of what for, just in general, because he kisses me so passionately I think I might slip and hit my head on the faucet below us if he lets go. That wouldn't be great. 

I can feel the shampoo on his head run down his back as my fingers grip his shoulders, my eyes closed. The air is warm from the water, hitting my skin rhythmically like fingers pattering along my arms. "You know what we haven't done in awhile?" Joshua asks, nipping behind my ear playfully. 

"Joshie, we had sex two days ago," I laugh, and he grips my ass, squeezing it sort of like dough. 

He hums lowly when I speak, and god, how can he be so cute but so fucking hot at the same time? Damn him, this should be illegal. "Two days is a long time," he whines, and I roll my eyes, rinsing the shampoo out of my own hair. 

"After we're done showering," I tell him, and I think this might be the quickest Joshua has ever showered before, at least from what I've witnessed. I take my time just to spite him because I actually do need to shower, and he's whining again for me to hurry up and get out. I scrub the sharpie out of my skin with Joshua's body wash, and finally get out and wrap a towel around my body. 

Thinking that soon enough, I'll only have to wrap a towel around my waist like Joshua, I get a little giddy. But I push that thought to the back of my mind, and quickly dart out of the bathroom so that Brendon and Sarah and Dallon will not see me, closing myself in Joshua's bedroom.

Joshua is already in the bed, blanket covering him from the waist up, and his strap on and the lube are on the bed next to him. "Took you long enough," he jokes, and I roll my eyes at him, locking the door and dropping the towel. He throws the blanket off, exposing his naked body because who would get dressed after a shower if they know they're about to have sex?

Joshua pulls me onto the bed, and I straddle him, my hands on his bare chest and his on my hips. My hair is still wet and so is Joshua's, but he's notorious for not drying off after showering, so the pillow beneath him is slightly damp. "You're so handsome," Joshua hums when I kiss him, pushing his wet hair out of his face. 

He runs his hands up and down my back while we kiss, soft and slow and not really what I was expecting, because Joshua seemed really eager in the shower, but now he's taking it slow, tentative. I love it when he gets like this, taking his time, being careful with me even though he can definitely go a little rougher. 

I've noticed that during sex, more and more, Joshua has started to talk, not about random stuff, but things directed towards me, commenting on my ass or my hair or the way my breath hitches when his fingers trail in between my legs. 

He'll kiss my chest, my hips, the pudgy parts of my thighs, anywhere imaginable, and when his tongue always darts over the most sensitive parts, his fingers will link with mine and my thighs will tighten around his head. I always feel like I'm going to suffocate him or something, but he only buries himself deeper, taking all of me that he can in. 

I'm almost a little lost in thought, but Joshua pulls me back out when he begins pushing the strap on and lube out of the way. "You could sit on my face if you want," he mumbles, and I raise an eyebrow. 

"That does nothing for you, though."

smut starts here.

Joshua shrugs, a sheepish smile dancing on his lips as he situates himself against the pillow more comfortably. I am still straddling him, and when I look at his smile my stomach flips. 

I wonder why he even bothered to bring the strap on and lube out if we aren't even going to use it. Or maybe he wants me to use it on him? 

Things escalate quickly, pressure building up between my legs, and I'm excited and I can't stop touching Joshua's body. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask shakily when Joshua grips my thigh. 

"Of course," Joshua says. "You don't have to be nervous, we've done this before."

He leaves gentle strokes on my hips and thighs now, up and down, towards my knees, then back up to my hips. Goosebumps follow his touch, and I somehow begin shaking, nearly like a leaf on top of Joshua. "I-I know," I breathe. "I just get so nervous that I'm going to suffocate you or something."

I run my hands over his chest now, circling my thumbs over his nipples, and he closes his eyes with a breath. "You won't suffocate me," he says. "Come on, it's really hot." 

Joshua arches his back and rolls his shoulders, pressing down into the mattress. I twist at his nipples, pressing sloppy kisses to his neck because I don't want him to be left out of this, and my mouth falls slack when he puts his hand between my legs, pressing slightly. "God, Tyler just get up here." He pats at his chest and pulls me closer by my hips, all of me pressed against him, right in front of Joshua's face, knees just below his armpits because his hands are all over me. 

This is familiar territory, as he slips his finger down the front of my body, thumbing against the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and I groan, my hips involuntarily jerking forward. I close my eyes as my mouth opens in surprise. 

Joshua is always so good at this, making me fall apart, gasp, squirm, whine, because he knows exactly where to move things. He knows my body and its sensitivities and exactly what to do and when to do it. Something so intimate about this, loving and caring and warm. He makes me feel so good, I want to make him feel even better. 

I let him take control of the situation, my hand gripping the curls near his forehead, and Joshua grips my ass, lifting me up and onto my knees. I hover over Joshua's chest, and he holds me in place. I let go of his hair and stretch my arms over my head. 

Before anything else, he has his thumb on my clit and another inside of me, and if he keeps this up I could literally climax within a minute or so, my eyes wet and him watching me eagerly. 

I am panting, rocking against Joshua's fingers as quiet breaths escape me, incredibly close, falling apart by his touch. When I choke out his name after he adds a second finger he stops and grips my ass again, pats it, not exactly a slap, but more of a come here kind of touch. 

I listen, my thighs trembling, entire being throbbing. "Should - should I face the door?" I gasp. 

"Doesn't matter," Joshua tells me. I decide to just face the window above Joshua's bed, gripping the headboard as I slowly lower myself. Joshua groans beneath me, and my cheeks are hot, I am shaking even more. 

Joshua's nose brushes against my clit and I whimper quietly, feeling the cold metal of his nose ring. "Relax," he breathes, voice fanning out over my body, and he rubs my thighs, encouraging me to loosen up and straddle his face fully. He feels so relaxed beneath me, and if I could reach him, I would be touching him too. 

Joshua is the one to initiate contact when I continue hovering slightly. My thighs are burning from staying in this position for so long, but I know it will be worth it. My knees are on either side of his face. 

He pushes his face forward, licking a flat stripe from my hole to my clit, and I choke out, "Fuck, Josh."

I'm pretty sure Joshua is smiling, so I force myself to relax when Joshua's hands finally rest on the lower part of my ass, parting me and leaning in again. I can feel the callouses on his hands on my skin. His tongue pressures my clit and out of surprise, I lift my hips away, a squeak escaping me. 

"Tyler, it's okay," Joshua hums, and though I can't see him, I know he looks fucking gorgeous. He nips at the inside of my thigh, and I shudder, allowing him to pull me back down. He has experience, he knows what he's doing, and I comply, letting him lick me roughly. Oh god. 

I probably sound so incredibly whiny, normally I'm not like this, and it causes my cheeks to light aflame in embarrassment. "Fuck," I gasp. 

Joshua doesn't say anything, instead sucking right where I want him, breaking apart any coherence I had established as my grip on the headboard becomes tighter. He's such a tease, his breath warm, and he's making it hard to stay still. I'm sure he would enjoy seeing me squirm, that is definitely what he is trying to achieve. 

I am, of course, squirming, and I really, really can't stay in place. Joshua is so unbothered, nothing stopping him, knowing exactly what he's doing. I feel weak, my head thrown back helplessly. 

He kisses the inside of my thigh again, and when he does so, I want his tongue on me immediately again, pleading with a broken voice. I can barely comprehend what I'm saying, my moans so high that I even surprise myself. He is so passionate, something I'm usually used to, but this time it is so incredibly intense I fear that Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon are able to hear me. I'm so loud right now, I bet they can. 

The hot feeling in the back of my throat builds slowly, spreading through my body like wildfire, all too familiar when I'm with Joshua. One hand is steadily holding onto the headboard while the other roams over my chest, and the thought of it soon being flat slips briefly into my head, but it is quickly pushed to the back of my mind as harsh waves of pleasure coarse through me. 

I am tense, nearly on the verge. With Joshua, I am terrible at control, but I never want this to end so I try to hold off, trying to lift my hips up to give myself a second to breathe. Joshua doesn't let me, though, only gripping harder, his tongue inside of me, adding two fingers.

My thighs squeeze together tightly as I choke out another moan, rocking against Joshua's tongue and fingers as they dig inside of me. 

My entire body convulses and my hips stutter forward several times. I am holding my breath as I come, everything so intense. Usually I just orgasm, never actually coming, but this time everything is just too much. "Fuck, oh my god," I groan. 

It lasts so long, Joshua continues swirling his tongue all over me, slowly fingering me until everything is far too much, too overly sensitive. 

I think Joshua can tell that everything is too much because he pushes the strap on and lube off of the bed and onto the floor, helping me scoot off of his chest and onto his stomach before laying me down next to him. 

My chest is rising and falling quickly, barely able to get a full breath in, my eyes fixated on the ceiling. 

Everything is quiet for a minute or so before Joshua rolls over to face me. He's smiling so wide, his crazy hot smile. I shift lazily to lean on an elbow as I look at him, a broken "what?" leaving me. 

"That was probably the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed," Joshua says. "God, I love you so much. Those noises. Oh my god."

I lay back down, burying my face in the pillow. "Shut up," I mumble, cheeks hot, my voice hidden in the fabric of the pillow case. "I love you too."

I peek out from the pillow when Joshua starts moaning, his hand between his legs now. "Do you want me to help you?" I ask, scooting closer and replacing his hand with mine, now even sure why I bothered to ask because he is already complying, his head thrown back against the pillow as I suck marks into the hollow of his throat. 

His hands are all over me as I move to straddle him again because it is easier this way, and with him rocking down on my fingers and the brushes to his own clit, he's undone in minutes. I'd like to think that because of him eating me out, he is so turned on that it hardly takes him anytime to orgasm. 

smut ends here.

Afterwards we dress ourselves in pajamas, and this time I am wearing the ones that I left at his house last time. We have started to purposefully leave things at each other's apartment to make it easier when we stay over. 

I put the strap on and lube back in the drawer. Maybe we'll use it next time.

"You wanna go watch something on the television?" Joshua asks once we are both dressed. I am wearing a very thick pair of socks that make my feet feel very warm, and one of Joshua's sweaters over my pajamas. I follow him into the living room, where the three are still watching a movie, but a different one this time. 

"That was a really long shower," Brendon jokes. "I didn't know water could make those noises."

"Shut up, you freak," I gasp, throwing the pillow that is normally on the butt of the desk chair at him. Now I know for sure that they could hear us, but I honestly don't care all that much. I've walked in on the three of them having sex before, it doesn't change anything about our friendship. 

"What are you guys watching?" Joshua asks, pulling me on the floor, so I sit between his legs and lay my back against his chest, his back against the couch by Dallon's legs. 

"I think it's called Gravity," Sarah says. "With Sandra Bullock."

It's long, I have seen it before, so I end up falling asleep against Joshua within ten minutes. I must be really worn out from being in the bedroom with him because I don't remember dozing off at all, but with Joshua's hands running up and down my arms soothingly, I am gone.


	15. Fifteen

Tonight, I cook dinner for everyone, and that includes Sarah and Dallon too.

It is getting dangerously close to valentine's day and I have yet to get Joshua anything, which sort of sets my nerves on end, because I feel bad and I have no idea what I should get. I've never spent a valentine's day with a boyfriend before, so the concept is quite foreign to me.

Would he appreciate chocolates maybe? Or one of those giant stuffed teddy bears boys in high school would always get for their girlfriends? Joshua doesn't really eat a lot of candy, if at all ever, so chocolates probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Plus, where the hell are we going to fit a stuffed bear? It would probably gather dust anyways. I need to get him something useful. Maybe a watch.

Joshua trudges into the kitchen, his hair still sopping wet from his shower. Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon will be here any minute. At my apartment this time, because they've never been and I feel bad for never inviting them. So, I forced Joshua to clean up while I started dinner, and then he showered after doing so.

"What are you making?" he asks, and I scowl when he rests his chin on my shoulder, water dripping onto my sweater and arms.

"Get away from me, you wet dog," I mutter, shooing him away, and he smiles playfully, shaking his hair because yeah, I called him a dog, so obviously he's going to act like one. I end up having to kick him out of the kitchen, almost physically, so that he won't get water all over the floor. He just pulls a chair and watches me from the entrance.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I joke, hiking my jeans up on my waist because they are just slightly too big. I'm too lazy to run and get a belt from my bedroom right now anyways.

"Watching you is the best thing I could ever do," Joshua tells me. "My favorite pastime."

"You're such a creep," I say, but I smile, because even though he's a creepy little shit, I love him. I honestly don't know what I would do without Joshua. We grew into each other so quickly, adapted to having each other around, that not being near each other seems odd and out of place. I can barely stand to sleep by myself in bed, I'm so used to having him lay next to me.

When the buzzer goes off signaling that Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon need to be let into the building, Joshua stands up from his chair. He just has to pass through the kitchen when he could easily go around, but no, he smacks my ass as he passes me and snickers when I glare at him.

He lets them in and tells him how to actually get to my apartment, and then he's pushing the chair back into the small dining table. It won't fit all five of us, so we will probably have to just eat on the couch and pull up maybe one of the chairs.

I turn the pasta sauce down to a simmer when Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon arrive so I can say hi, and the first thing Sarah says to me is, "Your apartment is so cute!" It really isn't, a grown man, and a lot of the times Joshua, lives in it, so it's pretty bland in my taste. I don't have many decorating skills.

I smile and give Sarah a hug, and then Brendon and Dallon, but Dallon is enormous and engulfs me, basically. "I'm just making dinner," I tell them. "It should be ready soon, I just have to finish the sauce."

Joshua brings them into the living area with the couch and television while I stand in front of the stove, slowly stirring the sauce. Even though it is simmering, little bubbles pop up every few seconds and I catch them with the wooden spoon. 

I can hear everyone conversing in the living room, and when I check the sauce it tastes good enough, so I turn off the stove and pull the noodles off, draining them and putting them into a nice bowl. If it was just Joshua and I, I would probably leave them in the pot, but they're our guests and I want to do something nice for them. 

Even if whenever I eat dinner at Brendon and Joshua's, the table is never set, and we usually just grab from the stove. Joshua comes back into the kitchen when I call for him and helps me put everything on the table, and Brendon grabs the plates and cups and cutlery. 

We do end up sitting at the couch, the television not on, me sitting in a chair since there isn't enough room for all of us. My chair is right next to the edge of the couch where Joshua is at, so he keeps one hand on my thigh while he uses the other to eat and balance his bowl in his lap. He's being risky, but I know he won't spill. 

Our conversation is lower, very small because no one has much to say for awhile, and I notice Sarah and Dallon being especially quiet too, except for the way they compliment me on my cooking. 

Brendon speaks up after awhile, maybe after he's about halfway done with his bowl of pasta. He clears his throat at first, and takes a sip of water, and the way Dallon puts a hand on his knee and smiles at him sadly worries me, almost. Joshua looks up from our hands that are now slightly intertwined, at Brendon, and watches. I do too. 

"I have something to tell you." He looks at Brendon, but I can tell this applies to me too because he glances my way for just a moment. Maybe not as much as Joshua. He looks sad, maybe worried, and it is pretty obvious. What does he have to say?

"What is it?" Joshua asks, setting his bowl onto the coffee table, letting go of my hand to run his through his hair. Sarah is playing with the hum of one of her sleeves, her legs crossed, and Dallon is leaning against Brendon, his hair falling in his eyes. 

Brendon scrunches his nose up and purses his lips, and then says, "I've decided that I'm going to move in with Sarah and Dallon."

That really doesn't surprise me all too much, because I know the three of them have been together for awhile and this was bound to happen, since they are always all together. Sort of like Joshua and I, except they have been together for a lot longer, and even before that, Sarah and Brendon were together. 

Joshua doesn't seem too surprised either, because he says, "I figured this was going to happen. I'm really happy for you guys."

"Thank you, man," Brendon says, and he reaches over and hugs Joshua, but he has to reach over Dallon and I can tell it feels a little awkward for Dallon. 

I don't really understand why Brendon had to wait until dinner to say so, at my apartment of all places, but I really don't say much. He could have just mentioned it to Joshua instead of waiting, but I'm not him and I don't have a say in what he does. 

Though, since Brendon is moving out, Joshua will have that big apartment all to himself, and the other bedroom will be empty, so he'll have to do something about it. Maybe I could move in. 

But if I did move in, would I take the spare bedroom, or would I share with Joshua? We're boyfriends, we always share the bed whenever we are with one another, so I probably wouldn't take the other bedroom. Maybe we could use it as a guest bedroom. 

But we have only been together for a few months, and Joshua probably thinks that is way too soon for us to move in with each other. Some people will date for as little as a year before they move in with each other, sometimes even longer. 

At the same time, Joshua and I's relationship has been moving rather quickly. He took me to meet his sister before we were even official, and we had sex the day after we met, and we even said I love you pretty quickly, too. And we are always with each other. It is very seldom that we spend the night alone away from each other. 

So maybe we could move in with each other. I wouldn't be opposed to it, I love Joshua very much and would love to be with him every day and then wake up next to him. I just don't know if he's ready to move in with me yet. So I just won't say anything. 

After dinner, when Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon have left, Joshua does the dishes and I take a shower. I am quick about it because Joshua is usually quick about cleaning things up, and lock myself in the bedroom once I am out. I know he is probably sitting in the living room waiting for me to come out, so I should honestly hurry up, but I opt for sitting at the edge of the bed in my towel staring at my phone. 

I do this a lot, just scrolling mindlessly through my phone when I get out of the shower instead of getting dressed right away. It is Instagram this time that I use, though I am not very active on it. I hardly ever post, it is mainly just for me to use when I am bored. Like now. 

The explore page catches my eye, and like usual, I am mindless as I scroll, up until a video of some politician pops up. I almost don't watch it because I don't like getting super involved in those kinds of things, especially politicians, but the thumbnail is what pulls at my curiosity. Politician from Las Vegas makes Transphobic Remark at Rally, it states. 

Now, there are things I do in life that I really shouldn't do, and clicking on this video is something I really, really shouldn't do, because I immediately feel sick to my stomach. 

warning: strong dysphoria. it ends after the [...].

I may be cis-passing, but dysphoria still hits me in waves of gut-burning sickness, and sometimes it gets even worse than that. It can be quiet, barely there but just a little frown I give when I look at my chest. It can also be so bad that I can barely get out of bed and uncover my body, lift the blanket off of it, all because I'm too disgusted to even look at it. It hasn't been like that in awhile, but the moment I listen to this video, I feel it creeping up on me. 

I don't want to think about it, I really don't, but my body feels suddenly too heavy, and my phone falls out of my hand and onto my lap, but because my legs are hanging off the edge of the bed and at an angle, it slides off of my thighs and only the floor. It makes a dull thud. 

My stomach feels hot, all too common when I feel like fucking dying. 

My chest is exposed, and when I look down at it through bleary vision, my breasts look bigger, almost, like they haven't been shoved into a binder for almost ten years straight. 

I wrap my arms around my chest, my ribs cracking as my entire body splits with heaviness. I fall back onto my bed with a choked sob, my eyes immediately focusing on the ceiling. Beige. 

I am cold, even paralyzed.

I'm stupid. I really am so incredibly selfish and stupid and just a complete idiot. What am I doing, thinking that I could just change my entire gender? Go from a girl with breasts and a vagina to a man? So many different surgeries that I would have to go through, so much money spent, and for what? 

Who I was before is irreversible. I can't just... completely forget my past life. I mean, it isn't like I have, but still. I am always going to be Taylor, I will always be assigned female at birth and there is nothing I can do to change that. Testosterone and top surgery aren't going to change the fact that below all of this, I am a girl. I have the body of a girl and it isn't going to change. 

If I could just wipe everything off to a clean slate, sanitize my interior, then maybe everything would be alright. I wouldn't have to think about these things. 

There is a soft knock at the door, and I know it is Joshua. "Hey, you've been in there awhile, do you want to just go to bed?" he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the door. 

When I cry my nose gets really stuffed, so I am sniffling, my face warm with tears. I can feel my breasts, the way they squish under my cupped hands. I feel like I'm choking on air, on my words, on the fact that my throat is closing up in fear right now. Fuck. 

I'm really never going to be any different than I was before. I may have a deeper voice, a hairier body, and my upcoming surgery, but still. I'm never going to-

"Tyler?" Joshua's voice pops up again. "Did you fall asleep?"

He tries the lock, I hear it jiggle, but the door doesn't budge. I can almost hear him curse, but then he says, "Ty, could you please open the door and let me in?"

"Leave me alone," I croak, my voice wavering and gravelly. 

I wonder how Joshua is about his dysphoria. He has never really expressed anything about it, at least not that much, and he seems pretty confident in his body. Could he have had these moments too? Where his dysphoria got so bad that he felt like death was a better option than having to live with his own body?

I feel disgusting, like shit, and I would rather just disappear. If I didn't exist, things would be so much better, because then I wouldn't have to worry about people making transphobic remarks about my body. I wouldn't have to hate myself because there would be nothing of me to hate.

If only my exterior could just morph into what I want, what I need it to look like. If only I could morph into someone else. 

"Tyler, please just open the door," Joshua pleads, and I almost consider it when I stand up, my head dizzy, but I just dress myself into the baggiest clothes possible and hide my body away, shoving myself into my binder. It needs to be washed but I don't care right now. 

I'm crawling under the covers of the bed when Joshua somehow manages to unlock the door, his face looking a little frustrated. He has a quarter in his hand, pinched between two of his fingers. He picked the lock with a quarter, that's smart. 

"Why would you lock the door?" he asks, setting the quarter down on my dresser and kicking the door shut with his foot. 

I sink further under the covers, throwing the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and then the blanket over my face. I curl into myself and say nothing, but I feel the weight of Joshua's body on the bed after a minute. 

"Tyler, please talk to me," he whispers. "What's wrong?"

I sniffle, glad my face is hidden. Joshua obviously knows I'm crying, I'm not quiet about it. I sound and look like a mess. "I fucking hate myself, that's what's wrong," I say quietly, squeezing my eyes shut so that all I can see is nothing. Just darkness. It is warm under the blanket. 

Joshua doesn't say anything for a moment, but when he does, I'm surprised because it really wasn't what I was expecting at all. "I still get really dysphoric sometimes too," he mentions. "Even after top surgery, I still feel like nothing sometimes."

I sniffle, turning over so that my body is facing Joshua's but I am still covered by the blanket. He seems to get the hint that I am listening, because he says, "Dysphoria is something that is never going to go away, even after surgery. I had to learn it the hard way."

"Then what's the point of surgery?" I whisper, barely audible. 

"I thought the exact same thing," Joshua tells me. "I thought for awhile that top surgery would cure my dysphoria, but it really didn't. Sure, I may have felt a lot better about myself, but it didn't change what's inside of my head. Only my body."

Slowly, I peak my head out of the blanket and stare at Joshua, He is laying down, body facing mine, mere inches between us. I blink and know that the tears are starting to slow. 

Joshua clears his throat. "I would still give anything to be cis. To not have to be scared of my own body or these dark thoughts in my head, that would be amazing. But then I think about individuality and what being trans gives us."

"What do you mean?"

"We're different from the rest. We're special. We know each other because we are each other."

I bring my entire head out of the blanket now, my red, tear-stained face completely in sight now. Deep in the pit of my stomach, that gross feeling still burns, but it subsides slightly because of Joshua's words. He knows me. I know him. We've experienced this, maybe not always together, but by ourselves, and to be able to share that is incredible. 

I don't know what I would do without him. "Nice to know my kind will be on my side," I whisper. 

I look like a mess, a terrible sight. But I know I'll be just fine.

...

I have to work the entire day and the first half really fucking sucks because Hannah doesn't come in until later, so I am running around and waiting on tables for a few hours before I finally allow myself a break. 

I sit in the break room for thirty minutes and eat some carrots I brought from home, which was probably a dumb idea because they are not filling and I didn't pack anything else for lunch. 

What sucks most, though, is that James ends up coming into the restaurant. I was already having a bad enough time with my dysphoria yesterday, I don't need him making some dumb transphobic comments at me while I'm working. I don't have the patience. 

I swear he smirks when he sees me, but thankfully someone else gets to his table so I don't have to serve him or the guy he's with. They look like they could be brothers, who knows. 

The people at the table next to James and this guy leave so I start removing the dishes and wiping off the surface of the table. James clears his throat and I have to fight from rolling my eyes as I look up at him. I can't act like an asshole to him because I know if I do, I'll risk losing my job. I have to treat him like a customer and not a transphobic little fuck. 

"Can I help you, sir?" I ask, a little venom to my tone, but not noticeable enough to where my coworkers will hear and ask my about later. 

James snorts. Fuck you, James, and your enormous fucking forehead. "I'd like some ice water, please." 

That's probably the first time he's ever said please in his life. 

I mutter a right away and set the rag I was using to wipe the table down, walking to the bar and asking Hannah to pour a glass of ice water. She's here now, a little busy since it is later and more people are coming in for a late dinner. 

I bring it to James' table and he doesn't even bother to thank me, so this time I do roll my eyes and stalk off to the bar since it is nearly time to clock out. My stomach hurts, I'm sweaty, and I just want to go home and sleep. Or maybe I'll invite Hannah over, we haven't hung out in awhile. I miss doing that. 

I untie my apron, and sit down behind the bar, nudging Hannah's hip with my elbow. "You wanna come over after work and order a pizza?"

"God, please," Hannah breathes. "I'm dying to have some sort of social interaction besides work."

She ends up following my car all the way back to my apartment, where we climb the steps together. She has weed, and we order the pizza first and wait to smoke it until it gets here because otherwise we'll have to answer the door high and that won't fare over too well. 

I don't actually think Hannah has ever been to my apartment before, though I have been to hers. I wonder how her roommate Michaela is doing. 

Once the pizza is here, Hannah and I situate ourselves back on the couch, the box of pizza on the coffee table. We don't bother with real plates, just paper ones. Ever since I was little, using paper plates when ordering pizza made everything feel so much cooler to me. Like, everything was more laid back, no dishes needed to be done. Like a birthday party, almost.

Hannah has a slice of pizza in one hand and her blunt in the other, pinched between her thumb and pointer finger. "Do you want to watch something?" I ask my blunt already finished off. My head feels fuzzy and my body has sunk into the couch, almost completely. It feels like I am one with the couch. I am a couch now.

"Sure." Hannah has a mouth full of food, her voice is slightly muffled, so I lean over and grab the television remote and turn it on. We end up watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, it really is all I ever watch. Maybe I should go to the library and get more of Community since they don't have it on Netflix or anything.

I think I may be a little more sober than Hannah, because I'm still well aware of my surroundings, I just feel more calm, and Hannah takes one look at her slice of pizza and starts giggling. I sink even further into the couch.

"What are you laughing about?" I ask, rubbing one of my feet up and down Hannah's leg, the part where her pants ride up on her ankles and I can see the exposed skin.

"Pizza is just so good," she breathes, laying her head back against the edge of the couch. The way we are sitting, our bodies are both fit into the couch, me against one edge and her against the other, and our knees are pulled up close to ourselves.

I want to look back at the television to focus on the show, I really love this show, but the door opening catches my attention and Josh walks into the apartment, his key in his hand. He has a key to my apartment. 

It is nearly ten at night, I don't know why he would be coming over so late but oh well. He immediately scrunches his nose up, probably at the smell of the weed and pizza mixed together. Hannah doesn't even seem to notice that Joshua is here, she is so focused on something Andy Samberg just said. 

"What are you doing over here so late?" I ask. My pants tickle my leg hairs like grass. Perhaps I'll take them off. 

"Neighbors were loud," Joshua says, closing the door. He looks over at Hannah. "Is she staying the night?"

I actually didn't even think about that. We probably shouldn't have smoked so late at night because Hannah probably has to get home. Though, we smoked pretty late at her house and I still went home right after. And Joshua drove me home after smoking the night we met. 

"You wanna stay the night, Hannah?" I nudge her with my foot and her head slowly turns to me. "I don't think the three of us will fit on the bed, but we can give you some pillows and blankets." That's a joke. I doubt Hannah would want to cuddle with Joshua and I all night anyway. 

She shakes her head, and in all honestly I think I was hoping she would say yes because I've never had a "sleepover" with someone that wasn't my boyfriend or some hookup since high school on the basketball team. But I get it, we're adults, we don't have sleepovers with friends. Right? "I can just text Michaela to pick me up, she usually stays up pretty late so it won't be a problem."

"You sure?" I ask. Joshua leans over the couch and grabs the last slice of pizza from the box. I didn't realize Hannah and I ate so much. Hannah nods this time, running a hand through her hair. Her blunt is done by now, sitting on her paper plate idly like mine. 

Michaela comes eventually, but not before Hannah chugs three straight glasses of tap water and then groans, murmuring something about regretting all her life choices leading up to that moment. 

Michaela doesn't come up to the apartment, she stays in the car waiting for Hannah, but just to be safe Joshua helps her outside to Michaela so she doesn't get lost. I change into my pajamas while he is gone, really glad that he came over. Even if he didn't have a valid excuse, I would still be glad if he were to come over. I really want to see him every day. I want to move in with him. 

I am extremely reluctant in getting off of the couch because it feels so nice and comfy, but I know that my bed will be much comfier, so I trudge into the bedroom. Pajamas on, I also brush my teeth because my breath will probably smell terrible and Joshua has yet to kiss me hello. 

I'm nearly asleep when he crawls into bed in nearly nothing but his underwear, rubbing his eyes tiredly. I turn over so that I'm facing him, his wild curls falling in his face. 

I immediately begin playing with it, soft like cat fur. Like a cloud. 

He nuzzles into my touch, kissing just below the palm of my hand, on the part of my wrist where it bulges out with my tendons when I bend my hand backwards. "You smell bad," he comments. 

"That's the weed," I say. 

Nevertheless, Joshua still pulls me close, his impossibly warm body curled up into mine. I know Brendon hasn't moved out yet, he probably hasn't even started packing, but I can tell Joshua is still a little sad about it. He seemed fine about it yesterday, he still is fine, he just won't see his best friend every day like he's used to. The three of them, Brendon, Sarah, and Dallon are all moving into a brand new apartment because they all had their own. Which doesn't make a lot of sense to me because Sarah and Brendon had been together for so long even before Dallon, and then the three of them have been together for awhile, so waiting this long seems unnecessary. But maybe I just move a lot faster. 

It is like any other night. Joshua and I fall asleep tangled in one another, him asleep before I am, which is surprising because I'm so relaxed from the weed that I could have fallen asleep standing up. It could be seen as uneventful to most people, mundane almost, but knowing I have the sheer privilege of holding Joshua in my arms at night makes me realize that I am the most loved I could ever be.

And that is pretty exciting.


	16. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for disappearing. life has been really hard lately and i'm still struggling to hold on. but thank you for understanding my absence.

My normal Friday night, besides work, is not when I would expect to be babysitting. 

I've never been too fond of children, even when I was younger and one myself. People were too loud, everyone was too stuffy and too close and that just wasn't my thing. It was a miracle I got into basketball, because that involves a lot of skin on skin contact. 

But here I am, in Ashley's - Joshua's younger sister - house with Joshua, and Ashley and her husband are rushing out the door claiming they're going to be late for their dinner reservation. I don't know how Joshua managed to rope me into this. 

Joshua is sitting on the floor, the baby in his arms, me on the couch watching. He coos, presses his finger into her cheek. "Babies are so cute," he breathes. "Sometimes I wish babies would just stay the way they are."

"So that they would constantly have to be checked up on and have their diaper changed?" I ask, sliding down onto the floor across from Joshua. I push my back into the couch and cross my legs underneath me. My binder feels a little tight. 

Joshua scoffs playfully. "That doesn't matter, I'm talking about how adorable they look at this age," he says. "Like squishy little aliens."

I laugh, scratching the back of my scalp. My hair has grown back quite a bit since Joshua shaved it for me on my birthday. It's fuzzy now, like a peach. It will start to mold into shape soon if I keep growing it out. 

Joshua's hair is curlier than ever, wild and my favorite thing ever. It suits him so well. 

Sometimes I think about what it really would be like if we had never met. Obviously I wouldn't be sitting in his sister's living room watching her baby. I would still be going to work nearly every day and then coming straight home and going to bed. My hair would probably be pretty unkempt. 

My life would be mundane. I don't want to say that Joshua changed my life, but in a way, he kind of has. 

He's allowed me to have a different outlook. Before, I absolutely hated cis men in their entirety. But because of Joshua, I think I was able to see that cis men really aren't that bad. Of course not because Joshua is cis, because he definitely isn't, he just showed me some of the good cis men. Not all of them. A lot of them are nice, like Jordan. He's a little weird, but that's okay. I'm a little weird too. 

I had to realize that they weren't all going to hate me either. Some will, yeah, but this isn't high school where I got beat up for it. I still don't know how that guy could have known, and I don't think I ever will. He was just an asshole. 

I used to let that get to me, let it shape the way I saw cis men. They aren't scary. 

Joshua clears his throat, and I look up from my hands. I didn't even realize I had dissociated from my surroundings completely, and was picking at the skin around my nails. My thumb has started bleeding, just a little drop. "You okay?" Joshua asks, the baby now asleep in his arms. He's rocking her back and forth slightly, so Joshua is probably going to put her in her crib any minute. 

I blink and shake my head as if that will clear my mind. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I mutter. "I was just thinking."

Joshua stands up slowly, careful to keep the baby cradled against his chest. I stand too, using the couch for leverage. There is a table next to the couch holding a lamp and a baby monitor. From here, I can see that the battery is full. It is already on, showing the baby's crib, just a little camera shot. 

"What were you thinking about?" Joshua asks softly, heading towards the stairs. I follow him, and I am behind him as we climb the stairs up to the nursery. The baby is just barely three months old, just born in the beginning of November, so Joshua really had to fight to get Ashley out of the house. She was reluctant on leaving and almost cancelled their dinner when Joshua and I got there because she was so nervous. 

But knowing Joshua, the baby is in good hands. I'm really just here to keep Joshua company. 

I lean against the door of the nursery and watch as Joshua places the baby down on her back after changing her diaper. Neither of us say anything, and I haven't even replied to his question. I have changed diapers before, but only Jay's when he was a baby. I'm ten years older than him, I would babysit sometimes. He and Maddy were the only children I would ever babysit though. 

He shuts the light off but leaves the door open and the hall light on, and then grabs my hand as we walk down the stairs. Again, I am behind him. We really only need to be here in case anything happens with the baby. It is a little later, so obviously she is going to sleep and we won't have to be around her the entire time. 

I sit on the couch, Joshua following me, his hand never leaving mine. "You want to watch something on the TV?" He asks, reaching for the remote. He lets go of my hand, puts his on my thigh now. My upper thigh, it is comfortable. His hands are warm and I can feel it through my thin pants. 

I shrug and he turns on the television, already open to Ashley's Netflix account. It's like we're at either of our apartments, close enough to each other that I can feel his heat radiating through out clothes, his hair tickling my forehead when I rest my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, tired from working all day. It feels nice to just sit here with Joshua, even when it is in a place I have only been once. Plus, I had the whole traumatic period experience here, so that added a little bit of reluctance. But thankfully, no one mentioned it. 

Joshua puts on a movie but I don't really pay attention to what it is or what is happening in it. "What's your opinion on babies?" he mumbles into my hair, breathing in. It probably smells like my conditioner. 

I don't even bother to open my eyes. "What do you mean?" I ask, my body slowly sinking further into the couch. I am so comfortable. 

Joshua shifts so that he is facing me, crossing a leg under himself, meaning I have to lift my head up and actually look at him. He brushes his hair out of his forehead, tucking a curl behind his ear. I really do love his hair, but maybe he should get a haircut. 

"I mean, what do you think of babies? Would you ever want one?" He sniffs. 

I cock an eyebrow, sitting up a little straighter, and turning my body so that I don't have to just turn my head. I slump over a little. "I would absolutely never have a biological child," I start. "Never getting pregnant, absolutely not."

Joshua rubs his eyes, maybe he's frustrated. "That's not what I'm saying, Ty," he sighs. 

I cross my arms, trying to sit up a little straighter with no backrest behind me. It's a little hard, only air and my shirt touching my back. My binder still feels a little tight, pressing into my rib cage. I've been wearing it since this morning, so really all day. 

"Then what are you saying?" I stare at him, scratching the back of my scalp again. 

"I just wanted to know what your opinion on babies was. If you'd ever have one with me." Joshua shrugs, looking a little defeated. I feel bad because it looks like I've upset him, and I hate doing that, even though I do it more than I should. At least it feels like I'm always disappointing him, even if he doesn't say anything. 

I take his hand in mine, and he looks up through his eyelashes, his head still cast down. I really don't ever want to have children. They're too high maintenance, they cost a lot of money that I don't have, and they're messy and loud. They scream, cry, poop and pee whenever they please. I don't know if I could handle that, but cheers to whoever else does. I'm just not strong enough to take care of a baby, especially if I can barely take care of myself. 

"Joshie," I whisper, kissing the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes again. "We haven't even moved in with each other yet, why are you talking about having babies?"

He buries his head in my lap, nose pressing into my shin, and when he breathes out, my leg hair tickles my skin. "Move in with me then."

I card my fingers through his curls, shivering when he bikes at the fabric of my pants. Normally, I would have been surprised and then it would have been this moment of bliss where we would kiss and get all giddy. But I was sort of expecting this and all, what with Brendon moving out. I might have been just waiting for Joshua to say something. 

"Of course," I mumble, moving one of my hands from his hair to his back, where I scratch his skin through his shirt. He hums in satisfaction and buries himself deeper in my lap. "You know, I've been waiting for you to ask since Brendon mentioned moving out."

The way Joshua laughs makes my heart flutter. I remember when we first were getting to know each other and I thought about how much I loved his laugh. It still hasn't changed, I would listen to it all day if I could.

Joshua rolls over so that he is facing him, his hair a mess now, his eyes bright and his cheeks wide. His face is sculpted like a statue, but he is so soft. 

"Ever Spider-Man kissed before?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. Joshua just rolls his eyes but pulls me in, and it's actually not that bad. I would expect my chin to smack him in the nose or for my scruff to scratch against his skin, but it's perfectly fine. A little better than how we normally kiss, even. 

"I'm going to go check on the baby," he whispers against my lips, and then I lift away and he stands up. I watch as he turns up the stairs, and as soon as I am left alone, I breathe out shakily. 

Just that one sentence, watching him leave to take care of a baby we're watching, makes me feel a little odd. Like we have started a family, almost. But I really, really don't want children. I want a family with Joshua, though. A dog, maybe. Or some cats. Or both. Hey, maybe a fish. 

Along the mantle that the television rests on, which is still playing the movie Joshua picked out, there are several picture frames. I can't make out who they are fully because of the distance between the television and I, so I stand up, stretch my legs, and kneel in front of the television. One is of Ashley and her husband together on their wedding day, and one of Ashley, Joshua, Jordan, and their little sister together at the wedding, Jordan and Joshua both wearing tuxes.

Jordan's ears are pierced in the photo from what I can tell, and Joshua's hair is a lot shorter. Close cropped on the sides with the curly mess still on top. 

I almost think that's all of them, but then I see one slightly covered in dust, smaller than the other two, almost hiding behind the television. I reach and pick it up, dusting it off and examining it. The frame is a lilac color, almost as if it was hand painted. Looks like it might be. 

There is a younger-looking girl in the frame, maybe thirteen or fourteen at most. Her hair is a darker brown and to her shoulders, and she is wearing glasses. If I squint my eyes, she sort of looks like-

"I forgot all about that photo." Joshua sits down next to me, already crossing his legs. I am nearly startled by his presence. 

"This is you?" I ask, handing him the frame. 

He sniffs, nodding. "Yeah, I was fourteen here," he says. "Hadn't come out to my parents yet." In the photo, his eyebrows are thin and arched exactly like they are now, except his might be a little thicker now. His nose isn't hooked like it is now, though. His lips are still the same shape, but he isn't smiling in the photo. It looks like it might be from school. 

I scoot closer, kissing his shoulder as he stares at the picture of his younger self. "When did you come out?" I ask, hoping I'm not prodding. I wonder why Ashley has this photo in her house and if Joshua let her keep it. He doesn't seem too happy about seeing it, but for some reason, he doesn't seem bothered either. He just seems indifferent. 

"I was fifteen." Joshua clears his throat, setting the photo down almost behind the television like it was before I picked it up. He has to reach over me to do so. He doesn't look my in the eyes, instead playing with the elastic hem of his sock. "We were all eating dinner at the table like every other night, and Jordan said something about a kid at his school. Something about a boy wearing a princess dress, I don't know." 

He pauses, snapping his sock onto his ankle a couple of times. I start to card my fingers through his hair again, sitting up on knees to reach better. Joshua presses a warm, wet kiss to my exposed arm. 

"Mom asked him why he mentioned it," Joshua continues. "He asked her if boys could wear dresses, and she said of course they could." He pauses again, but this time to rub his eyes. "I sort of just blurted it out then. I couldn't hold it in any longer."

"What did you say?" I rub his ankle so he will stop snapping his sock, so he just grabs my wrist and starts skimming his fingers over it. He stares at his toes. 

"I think I said something along the lines of... 'I want to be a boy.' I don't know, it was like, over ten years ago."

"God, that's such a long time," I breathe. "I wish I had realized that young. Would have made things easier, I think." Joshua stands up and pulls me towards the couch, and we sit down where we were once before, except Joshua pulls me down with him and lays my body against his. I feel a little odd because this is his sister's couch, but if Joshua is comfortable, I guess I should try to be. I'm sure Ashley wouldn't care anyway. 

"When did you come out?" Joshua runs his hands through my fuzzy hair. 

Coming out for me was a lot easier than I honestly expected it to be. I was twenty, maybe. Of course I had known about being trans for awhile, since I was sixteen, but I was too scared to come out until four years after finding out. 

I told my siblings first. I sat them all down and explained to them why I had been keeping my hair short. I used to wear sweatshirts all the time to hide the fact that I had actively been wearing a binder. I wasn't on testosterone yet, and wouldn't be for a couple of years. If I had known Joshua then, he would have been on testosterone for over a year. 

Telling my parents was a little harder than telling my siblings, but it was fine nevertheless. My dad asked me if I was a lesbian when I sat them down and told them I had something important to tell him. I just told them and that was that. My mom hugged me and I may have cried a little, but that was it. I was Tyler Joseph then, no longer Taylor in their eyes. 

Joshua running his hand through my hair again pulls me out of my head. "I was twenty," I start. "It was really, really normal. My parents were fine with it from the beginning."

I guess I was lucky. A lot of people come out and have terrible experiences. Some kids get disowned and kicked out. Some never get to talk to their parents again, and it's sad that they have to go through that. 

Joshua yawns. "That's really good," he says. "It took my parents a couple of weeks, but they came around. Now more supportive than ever." He rubs his eyes. "I'm tired."

"It's barely even nine o'clock yet," I laugh, but he shrugs from underneath me, closing his eyes. The way we are laying, either of us could easily fall asleep. But I know we shouldn't because we have to stay awake in case the baby needs us. Plus, this isn't even our house. I'm sure Ashley wouldn't be happy to find us asleep on her couch when we should have been watching her daughter. 

We don't actually end up falling asleep, and Ashley and her husband come back within two hours. Then Joshua and I have to drive back home in the dark, which really isn't too much of a hassle, and then we just end up back at his apartment. 

In bed, both of us in our pajamas, he whispers, "Soon, you'll be waking up here every morning."

I hum, burying my face in my pillow. My chest presses into the mattress, my breasts squishing just a little, and my stomach flips at the thought of having them gone in just under a month. 

It feels a little quieter without Brendon always singing here in the apartment, but I sort of miss the noise. But they really don't live that far, so Joshua and I could easily go over and visit. They're still in the city. 

Face still buried in the pillow, I breathe in deeply. It smells so much like Joshua, the entire apartment does. He's like a candle that never stops burning, the scent so strong it will waft through the vents and out of the windows to reach me. His hand creeps under my shirt, and he scratches my back. 

It's random, but after I don't respond, he says, "Do you like dogs?"

I turn over, but his hand remains under my shirt, on my stomach now. His fingers dig ever so slightly into the slight pudge around my hips. I've always been pretty skinny, but the hips have stayed. They're not super feminine - more straight than protruding and curvy, but still. The small girlish fat won't disappear and it's not my favorite. 

"I like dogs," I breathe. "Why?"

Joshua stretches. "I'm seriously considering taking Jim in," he states. "He's still a little too much for my mom to handle right now."

"But would he be good in an apartment?" I ask, and I run my hands through my fuzzy hair, scratching at the back of my scalp. 

Joshua shrugs, sitting up and removing his hand from under my shirt. My stomach suddenly feels cold without it. "What if we got a house?" he blurts out, eyes only a little wild. Even from laying down, his hair is wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled, probably because it was laying on the floor when he picked it up. He probably wore it to bed last night too. 

It's getting late and I am tired because we literally had to watch an infant after each having to work all day. Getting a house with Joshua, though, doesn't sound completely unappealing. However, we haven't even moved in together yet, and an unnerving thought creeps into the back of my mind. 

What if people think Joshua and I are moving too fast? What if they see us moving into a house together and sneer because we've only been together for a few months? I still have to get him something for valentine's day, and I don't even know what to get him at that. I mean, Joshua and I wouldn't buy the house, right? We'd only rent it. Because what if something goes wrong and we suffer a terrible breakup right after getting a house together? Who would even-

"Tyler, are you alright?" Joshua asks, cradling my face with both hands. 

I don't even realize how shocked I am until I hear my lack of breath. I exhale shakily, staring at Joshua with wide eyes. "What if we get a house and then something goes really wrong?" I squeak, a little harder to move my face with Joshua holding it. He seems to get the message and lets go, but he stays close. "What if we break up after investing all our money in a house just to take in a dog?"

Joshua frowns, sitting back on his knees towards the middle of the bed. I pull my knees up to my chest anxious, my throat tight. "Why would you think we would break up?" Joshua asks confusedly. 

This time, I can barely shrug. I can think of lots of reasons, but they all sort of deal with me. I could get too much for Joshua to handle. I couldn't be enough for him. He could get tired of me. I could get really annoying and he could get fed up with me. I force myself to speak even with my tight throat. "What if you get tired of me or something? I'm not all that exciting."

Joshua scoffs. He literally scoffs, almost like a disbelieving laugh. I hide my face in my knees. 

"Tyler, please look at me," Joshua asks after a moment, hands on my ankles. The blanket has fallen to my feet. I don't look at him, though, instead squeezing my eyes shut further. 

"Tyler." 

I sigh shakily, peeking at him. He's frowning, it makes my stomach churn. Great, I've upset him.

"You're the most exciting person I've ever met," he breathes. "I've never been happier, really. But for you to think that I would get tired of you is extremely disheartening. I would never, ever get tired of you."

"You don't think we're moving too fast?" I croak. 

Joshua scratches at his beard. "Do you?"

Honestly, in my own opinion, no. I love Joshua, I love being with him. I love loving him. But other people might think we're moving too fast, and that bothers me. 

I shake my head from side to side. "I just-" I groan, rubbing my eyes, sitting up a little straighter. "I don't want people thinking we're moving too fast or something. People are just so nosy sometimes." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you and I are moving too fast?"

I look back up at him. "No."

"Then don't worry about it," he laughs. "If people do say anything, then ignore them. They don't know us, they don't know our relationship. Fuck them if they think we're moving too fast or too slow or anything else. It's our relationship, not theirs."

My stomach eases up slightly. It's a miracle I have Joshua. 

"Besides," he continues. "I don't want to buy a house. That really is a little out of our price range right now. But maybe we can get one of those apartments with a backyard or something. They exist, you know." 

I nod. I actually feel a lot better now that Joshua has reassured me. 

"Let's go to bed," I whisper. "I'm tired."

"God, you said it." Joshua immediately flops down next to me, the mattress bouncing a little with the force. I crawl under the blankets. 

His hand finds its way under my shirt again, but I think I may be asleep before I even feel him begin to rub my back. 

We fall asleep with the lights on.


	17. Seventeen

I'm supposed to give my chest a rest.

That's what the surgeon said at least, when I went in for my appointment last week to confirm everything for my surgery. It really hadn't dawned on me that I would actually be having it until I stepped foot into the office and saw all the different posters about top surgery for trans people. 

Joshua had to work, which sucked because I really, really didn't want to be there alone. Joshua knows all about this kind of stuff and I don't. He's had surgery before, I haven't. At least not yet. 

Giving my chest a rest means I'm not allowed to wear my binder for a few days before surgery. It isn't an actual requirement, but it was recommended so that I could give myself some breathing room before I have to wear the tight bandages for awhile. 

It's fine at first. In fact, it's actually a lot more convenient when Joshua and I are hauling boxes into the back of the U-Haul and running up and down the stairs of his apartment to bring everything down. And at mine too. I stick to wearing a sweatshirt because that way nothing is too noticeable, but I become terribly sweaty while Joshua barely has any sweat stains. 

Everything is loaded up. We saved Joshua's couch and sold mine to Jordan. We are keeping both of our televisions though, so that we can have one in our room and then one in the living room. 

At first, we really didn't expect to get a brand new apartment. We were thinking that I would just move into Joshua's and that would be that. But then we found this other apartment, one even closer to both of our works than Joshua's, for only a little bit of a higher rent than what we planned on paying with Joshua's. 

It really isn't a normal apartment, so to speak. It's below a house, more of a rural city apartment. It's basically an apartment but with a backyard. It isn't like we're in a hole in the ground, no. We have a slanted driveway with a small little garage and a back door and a backyard with an apple tree. We technically have to share the backyard with our tenants though, but they don't have a dog so it's fine. 

But Joshua and I technically do have a dog. We have Jim, sort of. We are going to have him, as soon as we move into the apartment. It would be hard to move in and unpack everything with a dog running around, so we decided that we will wait until everything is situated. But that has to be by tomorrow, because my surgery is in two days. 

I've never actually owned a pet before, so this is going to be strange. I don't know how to take care of a dog, especially not a rowdy one like Jim. He's a sweet dog, just a little crazy. Maybe Joshua and I can get him trained or something. 

Joshua is leaning against the edge of the U-Haul, and he pulls out his phone to examine a text. Our breath doesn't billow out in front of us anymore. It's getting warmer despite the earlier time of year. March tenth. Only two more days until I can start my journey of finally being able to walk around shirtless and without my binder. 

I shove my hands deep into the pocket of my sweatshirt, popping my back. "Jordan is already there, and Brendon is on his way," Joshua says, pocketing his phone again. "I suppose we should get going, huh?"

I climb into the driver's seat of my car, Joshua into his. Because his car is bigger than mine, Joshua latches the U-Haul onto it. It isn't huge since neither of us have everything in the world to carry to our new apartment, which makes it a lot easier. There were still quite a few things to pack though. We are also keeping Joshua's bed, our bed now, and we gave mine to my parents. They're going to put it in the guest room or something. 

Joshua follows behind me to the new apartment. Not very far from my old now - I can say old now that I've moved out, so it takes all of ten minutes for us to arrive. By the time we get there, Brendon is pulling up to the curb. We stay on the side of the street because the driveway is just slightly too steep for us to bring in the U-Haul. But that's okay. It makes it easier to carry things into the apartment. 

"God, took you guys long enough," Jordan comments as Joshua and I step out of our respective cars. He has chipping yellow nail polish and henna all up his left arm. He's wearing short sleeves too, which is baffling. Even if it is warming up a little, it is still jacket weather. 

"We had a lot of stuff to pack up," Joshua scoffs. "You know how hard it was bringing that couch down the stairs?" He gives Brendon a tight hug. 

When Brendon moves to give me a hug too, I freeze up a little. Normally I would hug the shit out of Brendon, but that's because I would be wearing my binder. But I'm not right now, I can't, and I don't want Brendon to be able to feel my chest and then-

He seems to get the message when I shrink in on myself a little. He gives me a crooked smile and opts for a fist bump instead, which lifts a little weight off of my shoulders. "Let's get started," Joshua says. "This stuff isn't going to move itself."

While the three of them unlock the U-haul and start grabbing boxes, I unlock the front door of our new apartment. There is no front yard, obviously, but there are two small patches of grass that separate the driveway from the porch. It technically isn't a porch either, only a small lift with one step to distinguish itself from the rest of the concrete. Joshua and I will have to put a mat in front of the door for people to wipe their feet. 

The apartment smells a little like cleaning product, the same as it did the last time Joshua and I saw it. We came in last week to clean everything up and make sure it was ready, but not before we payed the first six months of lease. Then we set to work on scrubbing the dirt out, even if there wasn't a lot to clean. We didn't want anything for Jim to get sick off of. 

It is really bare right now, obviously, but as soon as Joshua and Brendon and Jordan first start bringing boxes in, it fills up. I move outside and trudge up the driveway with my hands in my sweatshirt pocket still, ready to carry something down into the apartment, but Joshua stops me. "We have it, it's okay," he tells me. 

"It's just a box, Joshua," I say. "I did it just fine bringing everything down this morning."

Joshua shrugs. "Yeah, but you're working too hard, you need to settle before your surgery."

I raise my eyebrows at that. If I was doing heavy lifting this morning, why not now? I know Joshua is only looking out for me, but still, this is a little ridiculous. "Lifting boxes isn't going to kill me, I swear," I exclaim. "I want to help out, you guys are doing all the work."

"Why don't you go and unpack the kitchen?" Joshua asks. "We'll need dishes to eat on. I was thinking we could maybe order pizza? Or tacos maybe?"

I can get behind unpacking the kitchen, so I do just that, stacking plates and cups and putting cutlery into drawers that I'll have to show Joshua later where everything is because he's not the one putting them there in the first place. They eventually bring Joshua and I's mattress and frame in, which I know we will have to build tonight. I don't even want to think about all the unpacking and building again. We have to buy a new television mantle too, so right now it will have to sit on the floor. Hopefully Jim won't knock it over, because that would be bad. 

I'm placing a roll of paper towel on its holder when Jordan flops down onto the couch, and Joshua shuts the door. Brendon is already setting up the kitchen table, which we had to take apart so that it would fit in the U-Haul. 

"Finally," Joshua breathes. "We cleared that goddamn thing out."

"Now you guys just have to unpack everything," Jordan comments. "I'm tired."

I hoist myself up on the counter. There is more room this time than at my apartment, the counters are wider and longer. The kitchen is much bigger, now there is wiggle room for me to dance while I'm cooking. Not that my old kitchen was small, no. It was just a little compact. 

"You guys can go home if you want," Joshua says, venturing into the kitchen. "I'm sure Tyler and I can handle the rest."

Jordan waits for Brendon to finish building the table before they leave, but not before hugging Joshua. Not me, just Joshua. They understand. 

The moment the door closes behind them, Joshua sighs loudly, slumping against the counter with his legs bent. "God, moving is exhausting," he groans. "I just want to  _sleep_."

"Would you rather sleep on our mattress on the floor or in a proper bed?" I nudge him with my hip, kicking an empty box in. I've finished the kitchen, organized the cutlery, and put the kitchen knives in their holder. I even plugged in the toaster and microwave. 

"Proper bed," Joshua mumbles. "Let's take a break though. Relaxation or something."

He sets up the wifi, the router sitting beside the television on the floor. We'll buy the mantle soon. The record player also sits on the floor next to the television. Everything is plugged in, I am sitting down on the couch and Joshua lays his head in my lap. His curls splay out beneath him, almost halo-like, and he look angelic. The little crook in his nose from when he broke it as a teenager in a fist fight. The little hole just below his bottom lip from where he used to have a ring. His long, straight eyelashes. 

I trace his brow bone with my thumb, planting a soft kiss to his cheekbone. "Hi." He looks up at me with what I can only assume is adoration, and my heart flutters. 

"Hello." My voice is barely above a whisper. 

We've been sitting on the couch for no more than five minutes, blanket draped over the back but the edge of it pulling slightly due to our added weight, and Joshua says, "I love this."

"Love what?" I hum, combing my fingers through his halo of curls. My chest feels light, but without my binder my stomach still burns in discomfort. I'm at home, it's okay. Only Joshua is here, no one else is going to see my chest. 

There are still times when even around Joshua, I still feel dysphoric. Obviously my dysphoria isn't going to disappear, but with Joshua, because he's experienced the same things as I have, it relieves it a little. But not always. Dysphoria is something that I am going to have to experience with my body on my own. Joshua may be here to help guide me through it, but it is still my own perception of it. 

"Just..." Joshua pops his neck and sighs tiredly. "Just being here... With you. Starting our lives together." He sits up then, excited, relaxation forgotten. "I mean, just look at us! We just moved in with each other, and we're getting a dog!"

It's almost as if he's a dog, jumping up excitedly and grabbing my hands, pulling me with him. I yelp in surprise but he picks me up, almost as if I weigh nothing at all, and hugs me tight against his chest. I don't even register the way mine squishes back just slightly because I am so caught up in Joshua. 

I have to wrap my legs around his waist so I don't just hang there limply, and he buries his face in my shoulder and breathes. It's weird how strong he is, he doesn't even try to put me down until I tell him that he really should because I don't want to be in the air any longer. When he sets me down, I say, "Come on, that bed isn't going to build itself."

**_..._ **

I literally swear to god, Joshua is more excited about Jim's toys than Jim is. 

We picked him up first before going to the pet store so that we could bring him with us and get advice on what we'll need. Because neither of us have owned a pet before, we can't just go to a pet store and grab what we think might be required. 

I'm pushing the cart and Joshua has Jim on a leash, the one that his mother already had for him. She also gave us some toys and food, but we're here for new toys and even more food. Plus, a new scoop for the backyard. We weren't going to take the used one. In the toy aisle, Jim is pretty calm. Of course he is a little hype, all dogs are, but nothing Joshua and I can't handle. 

I'm wearing another sweatshirt this time. Yesterday was hard with all the commotion of moving, but because we weren't entirely out in public, I didn't have to worry about many people seeing my chest. But now that we are out in a public store with multiple people, I am set slightly on edge. It's fine, no one can see my chest, it's very small and not noticeable- 

Joshua places a stuffed pig, one of those near indestructible ones, down into the cart. We have two giant bags of food already, plus a water and food bowl. Jim gets fed at six in the morning and six at night, that shouldn't be too hard. "Are you okay, Ty?" Joshua asks, hand coming up to pull my hands off of the edge of the cart. My knuckles are white against the stark red, so I release my hands, embarrassed. 

"Just a little nervous," I admit.

Tomorrow is the big day. Tomorrow I'm having top surgery, and then it will be a long recovery process. I'll have to take a lot of time off of work. I can't do any heavy lifting for starters, nothing over five pounds for at least a few weeks. Plus, I won't be able to lift my arms up above my head, which means I can't reach for things on the shelves in the kitchen or break room or even our own apartment. 

Joshua managed to get a week off of work with pay so that he can take care of me. I'm still getting paid too, and I'll be able to go back after two weeks. I just have to be careful when I get back. I will have to change my bandages every day and be cognizant of my surroundings. 

"About tomorrow?" Joshua asks, and I crouch down to pet Jim, who has now sat himself down on the floor, tail thumping loudly as he pants up at us. He sort of reminds me of Lucy, Hannah's dog. They're both too cute for their own good. 

I purse my lips. "Yes."

Because I am feeling so on edge right now and Joshua knows it, he doesn't hug me, but he kisses the side of my palm and keeps walking, hand in my back pocket until he finds another toy he wants to buy Jim.

I know this is a choice, I do. I could easily be wearing my binder right now, but the doctor said it would be good for my chest. It will give me room to breathe. 

If I'm supposed to have room to breathe, why do I feel like my lungs are still collapsing on me?

**_..._ **

Tonight, at work, I am put even further on edge. It's too hot in the restaurant to wear my sweatshirt, I'll only sweat and look odd to the customers. 

I'm pulling my sweatshirt off in the break room. I have on a very old but still rather tight sports bra, black in color, and I look nearly flat. If anything, it looks like I've got a nice set of pecs. Compared to my skinny body, that isn't happening any time soon though. 

Behind the bar, Hannah is standing per usual. "Hi, Ty," she says softly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You look nice." I'm only wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt, but thank you, Hannah. You always look nice. Bless you. 

I don't respond, only smiling tightly as I begin taking orders. My pins are still safely on my apron, they always have been. No one I know comes in tonight, they're all strangers. Funny how you can work at a place for so long that you'd expect people to come in twice, but maybe the city is just so big that people are multiplying. 

Tomorrow during my surgery, Jordan is going to be watching Jim. I have to spend at least one night in the hospital after the surgery just so there are no complications, and I know well enough that Joshua is going to be staying in there with me, so Jordan will just stay the night at our apartment. He could sleep on the couch, but knowing Jordan, he'll fall asleep in our bed. And that's okay. 

Waiting tables isn't something I honestly thought I would be doing with my life when I was younger. Always good at basketball, my parents wanted me to go to college for it. I was nearly on a scholarship too, but then I graduated and never fulfilled it. I still really don't know what I want to do with my life, and I'm twenty-five years old. All I have is a high school education. 

I feel a little sick to my stomach, but I excuse it as I take orders and place drinks down and give people their food. I pass by Hannah and she'll say something and I'll respond, but only with something quick because I am constantly moving around. I'm off of my feet when I leave, when I am finally in my car. I never even bothered to give myself a break because I wasn't even working for that long anyway. 

Hannah didn't comment on my chest, but I could tell she knew. I could tell my other coworkers knew, but it isn't like they said anything. They all know I'm trans, I've mentioned my surgery before. 

I drive back to the apartment and Jim and Joshua are already waiting for me, Jim curled up next to Joshua on the couch, a blanket beneath them. I place my coat on the coat rack. "Oh, so we're letting him on the furniture now?" I tease. I don't have a problem with Jim being on the furniture just as long as there is a blanket beneath him so that fur doesn't get everywhere. 

He is sporting his new collar, blue camouflage. It has a little tag with his name on it and Joshua's phone number. 

We haven't even had him an entire day yet but I already feel so much love radiating out of him as I curl up behind him on the couch, wrapping an arm over his furry body, resting my head in Joshua's lap. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, my nose pressed deep into the fabric of his pants. 

He scratches at my scalp, I shiver. I'm tired, he probably is too. 

The only thing we didn't get for Jim was a cage. It would probably be reasonable for him to have one for at night so he doesn't go running around the apartment disturbing our sleep, but Joshua and I decided that we are going to let him roam for now so he becomes used to his surroundings. 

It's kind of crazy, the way our lives changed so quick. We moved in and got a dog together within two days, and then tomorrow I'm having top surgery. Child me would be baffled at what I'm doing right now.

"You wanna shower and then go to bed?" Joshua asks, running his hands over my stubble. I should shave but I really don't feel like it. I don't feel like doing anything that doesn't involve sleeping right now. I could literally fall asleep right here with Jim tucked under my arm and my head in Joshua's lap.

"I just wanna go to bed," I mumble into Joshua's thigh. "Too sleepy."

"You have surgery in the morning, you're going to be stinky."

If Joshua hadn't literally picked me up and pulled me into the bathroom I probably would have fallen asleep there with Jim, except Jim moves down to his bed by the back door. Joshua and I undress together, and end up taking a bath instead of shower because I'm too tired to stand up. This bathroom is slightly larger than Joshua's old one. 

Joshua has to reach behind me to get the shampoo, sneakily planting a kiss to my eyebrow as he does so. He just places the shampoo behind him on the ledge next to the shower curtain, which is pulled to cover us only slightly. The door is cracked, the record player is on, and it's like Christmas all over again. 

Joshua's hands, under the water, graze over my thighs, and I spread my leg as he pushes himself forward, our hips meeting in the middle. He kisses behind my ear. "I'm really proud of you," he mumbles. "You've come so far."

Hands still under the water, they run up my waist, almost lingering over my chest, unsure of what to do, unsure of whether or not he has permission to touch. He knows how I'm feeling even if I haven't expressed my discomfort over it with words. It's probably written all over my face. 

Right now, I feel fine about them. I think it's the giddiness of knowing they're going to be off tomorrow, maybe. Knowing that I'll no longer have them. Joshua presses a feather-light kiss to my collarbone, hands still lingering, waiting, body warm against mine in the water. Barely there, my breasts are underneath the water.

They've always been small, they got small because of my testosterone. Lots of people may wonder why I'm getting top surgery if they're so small. It's for my validation, not theirs, so they have no right to ask me about it. 

"Go ahead," I mumble into Joshua's wet mop of curls, and he grins as his fingers skin over my chest. He holds his breath and ducks his head under the water and kisses either of them, little pecks of his lips. 

I close my eyes, sink a little further, let the water wash over me.

**_..._ **

When I wake up, Jordan is already here. He's pulling off his shoes when I walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Joshua's shirt and my underwear, and I nearly jump back in surprise. Good thing this shirt is big on me. 

"God, you're early," I groan, letting Jim lick my hand the moment he scurries over to me to greet me. I think at one point during the night Joshua let him onto the bed, because I felt something on top of me. Or maybe it was just Joshua. 

"Wow, good morning to you too," Jordan jokes, but he rolls his eyes with a smile. His nail polish has chipped a little more and his henna has faded, even though it has only been two days since we last saw him.

Joshua is in the kitchen, shoving snacks into a bag. "We have to leave in thirty minutes," he tells me, and then he's reaching for a couple of water bottles from the fridge. I'm sure the hospital will have food and water, I don't understand why he is packing so much. 

Jordan's bag is on the couch, just a simple backpack with probably a change of clothes and stuff. I should change my own clothes, I don't think Joshua would appreciate me going out in this. "You want some breakfast?" he asks. "I cut up fruit and if you want I can make pancakes."

I start picking at the fruit sitting on the cutting board on the dining table. "No time for pancakes," I say through an entire mouthful of strawberry and melon. "Lemme get dressed."

He kisses me despite my mouthful of fruit, and Jordan pretends to retch. I don't catch all of what he and Joshua say to each other except for  _Even though I'm asexual I can still make sex jokes, idiot_. 

Despite not needing my binder anymore, I still want to keep it, and I lay it across the dresser across from Joshua and I's bed in hopes of finding solace in who I will finally see myself as once being once we return home. 

I'm wearing a sweatshirt again. I don't give Jordan a hug as Joshua and I rush out the door. I promise I normally would. He wishes me good luck though, and Jim licks my face. Him and Joshua have that in common. 

The drive to the hospital is only a little longer because of morning traffic and it's a wonder that I'm able to keep the fruit down because I feel like I'm going to vomit everywhere. 

Joshua's hand on my thigh, calm, quiet, cars passing, the smell of disinfectant, white walls, hospital gown. 

Right before they push me into the surgical room with all the curtains and scalpels and masks, Joshua grips my hand so tight I fear he might break it. Wait, no, I grip his hand so tight he grimaces. He fears I might break it. 

I'm going to be put under sleeping gas as soon as I'm in that room. I wonder if I'll dream.

**_..._ **

I don't dream.

_**...** _

I'm disoriented. 

It's like those cliche fanfictions where the main character wakes up in a hospital after a tragic accident with no recollection of how they got there, until a moment later their entire world comes crashing down on them and yeah, they realize they got into a car crash and they're the only surviving member of their entire family bloodline.

But hey, the hot nurse will take care of you and you'll fall in love. 

Everything is white, everything is cliche, and my body feels heavy with sleep. It feels like gravity has added an extra amount of pressure to my body to keep me from floating up into space. 

There's someone by my right side, chair pressed up against the wall but still close to my bed. Joshua, his hair curly as ever, wild, my favorite. I train my eyes on him and he smiles. "Hey, sleeping beauty," he says. "How're you feeling?"

This is the part where my entire life comes crashing down and then I realize I'm the only surviving member of my family bloodline. Except I'm not, I have my entire family and a flat chest. I have a flat chest. Fuck. 

It hurts to move, there is a nurse present in the room. I almost don't recognize her, but it's Ashley's friend Debby. The one I met literally once during my horrific period experience on Halloween. Great, love that. 

Baby steps, Joshua won't let me lean over to hug him. He scoots his chair as humanly possible and buries his face in my neck, and if we were at a different angle, my tears would be falling into his hair, not down the sides of my face. I claw at his back, I heave, through my tears I see Debby smiling, standing back and carefully observing. She isn't intruding. 

I can't lift my arms up to hug him, everything is so sore. I swear I feel him cry. 

His hair tickles the stubble under my chin. He stays bent over, my head titled back, eyes fixated on the ceiling. I can go without a shirt in public. Not for awhile yet because I have to actually heal and then wait for it to get warmer so I have an excuse to go shirtless.

I think of the future. The road ahead is unknown unprepared for.

I don't know which way I'm going, but with Joshua by my side, I can hear my way around. 

**_..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end. thank you all for making this story happen. wouldn't have done it without you guys ||-//.


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